Trust in This New World
by umbrella0326
Summary: Furious with how the show changed my favorite character from the graphic novels, I decided to redeem Andrea. Andrea and Michonne are headed towards the East Coast in hopes of finding an island to live a normal life. En route, they come across a fellow survivor named John. Can he be trusted? Takes place at beginning of season 3. Rated T. Don't own TWD.
1. Chapter 1

AN –

This is my first Walking Dead fanfic. In addition, as a fan of the graphic novels, I am _furious_ with what the TV show did to Andrea. She was my favorite character from the novels and the TV show did her a disservice.

A special thanks to my awesome friend precious-passenger for the beautiful cover art for this story. She worked hard on it and I'm grateful for her help. An up-and-coming author in her own right, please read her fantastic Glee and Supernatural fanfics. They're really good! Thanks again, precious-passenger!

I hope you all sincerely enjoy my first TWD fanfiction.

.

* * *

She sneezed.

Behind her, the sheer sound of a katana could be heard as it was pulled out of its scabbard. She knew what would happen next. And she was right.

Plop…plop…

She turned to the right and saw evidence that the threat had been swiftly taken care of. Eyes blinking and mouths opening and closing, two walker heads could be seen in the weeds near Highway 24 in eastern Georgia. She sighed.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

They went on their merry way.

.

The sun had just set. After setting her chains around a nearby tree, Michonne determinedly strode up to Andrea, who was seated near their small campfire. The ditch they found themselves in did a pretty good job of hiding them from plain sight and any stray walker could easily be dispatched.

Another typical evening threatened to pass for the two beautiful survivors. But that evening, Andrea had something on her mind.

"Michonne?" Andrea asked, reaching for a can opener.

"Yeah?" the fierce warrior answered. She sat down next to her blonde companion and crossed her legs, Indian-style.

A moment of silence passed as Andrea finally worked the gears of the opener on two cans. Then, like a kid who claimed a prize from a candy machine, she held them up with a little smile on her face.

"Pears? Or beans?"

Michonne returned the little smile with a polite one of her own. "What do you want?"

"Oh no, Michonne!" Andrea replied, smile broadening. "I picked last night. It's your turn tonight."

Michonne chuckled. "When are you gonna learn, blondie, that you _always_ get the first pick?"

Andrea faked being appalled. "What?!"

Michonne fiddled with a loose string on her combat boots. "You heard me…blondie!"

Andrea giggled and dropped the can opener. "Well, since we don't have to watch our figures anymore, I'll take the beans!"

"Girl's night out." Michonne said, looking at her with a sideways glance.

Andrea laughed out loud and then quickly covered her mouth. Even moments of uncontrolled, pure joy had to be suppressed in volume. A walker or two were somewhat easy to take care of, but not a pack. Or God forbid….

A herd.

Andrea handed the can of pears to her friend and then came to a sudden halt.

"Oh! You'll need a spoon. I'll get it!"

Michonne watched her as Andrea jumped up and walked over towards the tree. The chains weren't moving very much despite the walker tied to the end of each one. Her smile dropped a little when she made eye contact with the boy on the left. Human eyes met walker eyes and a dash of unreasonable fear coursed through her. The Boys had proven long ago that they were docile. Plus, with their jaws smashed and arms cut off, there was simply no threat in front of the beautiful blonde woman.

She didn't even want to think about that fear anymore.

Forcing her eyes away, she opened up a portion of the enormous backpack tied to the left-side boy's back. Finding two spoons, she zipped it back up and wordlessly took a few steps away. But quite suddenly, she stopped and turned back to him. Their eyes met again.

"Tonight," Andrea whispered, "I'm gonna find out just who you were that Michonne still keeps you around."

The left boy said nothing, of course. Then, she turned to the right-side boy.

"You too."

The Boys lost interest in their human meal and looked away. Andrea promptly turned and marched back to the campfire, to her friend, to…her life.

Michonne heard Andrea's footsteps as they grew closer, but was surprised when they came to a sudden stop – right behind her.

"Michonne!" Andrea whined.

"What?" Michonne innocently responded. She quickly wiped her pear-laden hands on her dirty jeans.

"Don't eat that with your fingers!"

She chuckled. "And why not?"

Andrea quickly turned and sat down beside her. "I don't think it's a good idea to have Dole Pears with a side of walker brains!"

For the first time in what felt like years, Michonne laughed. Astonished, Andrea watched her, loving how Michonne's laugh sounded like she was singing.

That's when it dawned on them both.

Michonne laughed.

She actually laughed. In the eight months or so that they'd been together, she never heard Michonne laugh. Michonne too was surprised.

"That felt good…" Michonne whispered.

Andrea smiled. Michonne grinned. The fire blazed on.

It was a surprisingly cool night in what must've been late summer. Eastern Georgia is famous for its hot and humid summers and, during the day, this was no exception. But the chill of the night forced the women to wrap themselves up with some thin sheets. Michonne excused herself to urinate and Andrea stretched her long legs towards the campfire. Resting back on her elbows, she shifted her gaze towards the night sky. Orion and possibly Sirius glimmered in the cloudless sky as a contented, belly-full (or, full enough) sigh escaped her lungs.

Despite not really verbalizing it, the women realized they were headed towards the East Coast. If there was any shot at civilization surviving the walker outbreak, chances increased with the thought of it happening on an island or even a secure peninsula. There were several islands there and they were the closest islands they could reach. Ideally, a secluded island would be the perfect place to have a normal life.

Andrea chuckled and thought, _if normal life exists on an island, I hope it isn't a 'Lord of The Flies' situation_. Her attempt at her own dark humor fell short and she shifted to her right hip, propped by her hand to the side of her head.

Nameless insects chirped and firewood cracked. Otherwise, it was a silent evening. Occasionally at night, the women might hear the typical, emotionless sound of a walker moaning. But not that night. Andrea took it as an additional sign to approach Michonne about The Boys.

As if on cue, Michonne returned. Wiping her hands on the back of her jeans, she plopped into a seated position – elbows rest on her knee caps, feet connected on the ground. Andrea watched her for a moment, silently envious of Michonne's stunning dreadlocks and model-like figure. Michonne must've realized she was being watched. She flipped her head towards the blonde and smiled. Andrea smiled back. But Michonne quickly became curious.

"What?" Michonne asked.

"Nothing." Andrea responded, still smiling and staring.

"What?" Michonne repeated, smile widening.

"I just…" Andrea hesitantly began. And then, she added, "I just can't get over how beautiful you are."

"Oh bullshit."

"It's true!"

"YOU, blondie, are the pretty one. I'm just the muscle."

Andrea truly looked appalled. "NEITHER of us are just anything. And you ARE beautiful." And then, she leaned even closer to the fierce warrior. "We make a good team."

Michonne's voice softened. "Yeah. We do."

A wonderful, comfortable silence filled the air around them. Then, they busied themselves with ordinary tasks – Andrea hurled the empty cans into the woods and took off her shoes. Michonne took off Her Girl – she carefully handled the scabbard and katana like a mother holding an infant. After that was completed, she tended to the campfire and also removed her shoes. Sleepiness slowly began to seep into their bodies when Andrea decided it was time to make her move.

She turned and glanced at The Boys, who seemed to be marching in place a little. She returned her attention to Michonne, who just seemed content and happy.

"The Boys," Andrea casually began, "are restless tonight."

It was as if all the comfortable air had been whooshed away. What was once something akin to joy on Michonne's face was replaced with a fierce scowl and Andrea regretted saying anything at all.

"Did…" Andrea slowly began, "did you know them?"

Michonne fiddled with the campfire a little, a delaying tactic that proved to be way too short. Subtly, she nodded.

"Did you know them well?"

Again, Michonne nodded. But Andrea noticed the pensive and distracted look on her counterpart's face and chose the gentle route with her.

"Do…do you want to talk about it?"

Michonne hesitated and then slowly looked at her. Andrea was nearly bowled over at the sad and angry expression on Michonne's face.

Michonne shook her head and Andrea nodded. For a long moment, neither woman said anything. The campfire crackled and popped now and then.

Suddenly, Michonne whispered, "They deserve what they got."

Surprised, Andrea looked at her and quietly said, "I'm so sorry."

Michonne rapidly blinked several times before getting up and walking into the woods, away from Andrea, away from The Boys, away from…the past.

Andrea sighed. Some time passed and Michonne still hadn't returned. Andrea briefly considered looking for her friend but realized that the introverted fencing champion probably just needed to be alone. So, she granted her request.

Sleep took over. As Andrea's eyelids were closing, she hazily thought about what tomorrow would bring – more walking, more raiding, more East-bound highways. She quickly realized that every single day was exactly the same.

Andrea then fell asleep and Michonne returned, also falling asleep. Had they been a little more alert, they would've sensed a pair of human eyes that had been watching them for the past few hours.

.


	2. Chapter 2

Dawn.

The pink, orange, and yellow of the early morning sunshine stung Andrea's eyes as she blinked them open. With a groan, she threw the thin sheet off her body and turned around. Imprints of leaves and sticks on her arms silently annoyed her. Michonne was still peacefully asleep. With a little smile on her face, Andrea got up and went into the woods to urinate.

 _Crack_

Andrea froze. Automatically, her hand dropped down to her sheath and pulled out her Bowie knife. Armed, she carefully and slowly walked towards the noise. Her blue hunter eyes scanned left to right, and then back again. She took a few more steps to the left.

 _Crack_

Andrea's eyes narrowed. Slowly, she gently pulled back a low-hanging branch from the tree. On the ground, she discovered the source of the noise.

She smiled.

.

Michonne's eyes opened. After a yawn and a dehydrated smacking of her lips, she threw the sheet off her long body and readjusted her hairband. Pulling her knees up, she hiked her body into an erect position. She turned around and was instantly concerned – Andrea was gone.

And right at that moment, Michonne heard a sound from the woods. Turning to her left, she grabbed Her Girl and unsheathed it, the sheer sound invading the woods. Michonne only got a couple of steps forward before she realized the sound was coming towards her!

Gameface instantly turned on, Michonne raised her sword in attack position and took another step forward. Suddenly, Andrea appeared. Instantly, Michonne relaxed and resheathed Her Girl. But then, her eyes narrowed in confusion over what was in Andrea's hand.

Andrea looked down and then right back up with a little smile on her face, holding up the corpse of a rabbit.

"Breakfast is ready!"

.

While they ate, he watched them. A person Andrea knew (or, at least, knew _of_ ) chewed on some beef jerky, raising his binoculars. A little chuckle escaped his mouth now and then as he watched them eat breakfast. Once in a while, he'd lick his lips when he caught sight of Andrea's full breasts. Dropping his binoculars, he made a quick inspection of his supplies. He rifled through his satchel, verifying he had enough of the essentials – water, beef jerky, rope, can opener, duct tape, plasticware, gags, canned goods, etc.

Smiling, he resumed his task of staring at them, biding his time…

.

"Enjoying Bugs?" Andrea playfully asked.

Michonne's facial expression soured. "Don't call it that."

Andrea chuckled. "Why not?"

"Blondie, it's much easier to eat this if I don't think of it as Bugs Bunny."

Andrea looked up towards the sky as she swallowed her mouthful of Bugs Bunny. "Think it'll be a hot one today?"

"Always is."

Andrea dropped her head and took another bite. With her mouth full, she asked, "Should we find a creek?"

"Nah." Michonne casually replied as she pulled out three full water bottles. "We're good on water."

They finished their meal in silence. The smell of the dying campfire filled their nostrils as the sun rose just a little higher. After a few good swigs of water, the girls stood up in unison, wiping their hands on the backs of their jeans. Michonne sighed as she gathered up her belongings. Andrea trotted over to The Boys, just to wake her up even more. Just as it had the previous night, walker eyes met human eyes for just a moment until protocol took over.

There it was again. That unreasonable fear in Andrea's eyes. It quickly went away. Even though she'd been around The Boys for months now, there was always that little concern about her personal safety. Of course, she was MORE than capable of taking care of herself. But fear was always a motivator for self-protection and preservation. It always is.

Within minutes, the girls were on their way. They had fallen into a routine that was perfected by daily repetition – a daily routine that happened every single day. A routine that even started when they met…

.

…"- _aaaaah!_ "

She fought. She fought and fought and fought. She was outnumbered. Three walkers were approaching her on the narrow path. Her last bullet slammed into the first walker's head, effectively ending its harrowed life. Her knife got stuck in the second walker's skull. But then, no knives, no more ammunition…and no more energy. She tripped over the second's walker's shoulder and fell to the ground, just as the third and final walker approached her. From the ground, Andrea was looking up into the dead eyes of the walker, primally fighting to eat her. Guttural snarls ate the air as its jaws snapped open and closed and open and closed just inches from Andrea's face.

The dirty blonde fought even harder against her attacker, pushing at its chest. But exhaustion and dehydration took its toll on the former civil rights attorney as the walker's jaws got closer and closer…

Desperately fighting, Andrea screamed over and over. The walker relentlessly fought to eat her, as Andrea could smell its dead, rotting breath on her face. Fresh drops of blood fell from its mouth and landed near her screaming mouth. Her eyes, half-closed from fatigue and heat and terror, lost their focus and almost closed shut...

Fffffffftt!

Suddenly, the battle was over. Andrea's hands were still in the air, unexpectedly grasping at nothing, when she opened her eyes. To her left was the headless walker that attacked. And when she looked to her right, she saw the most unexpected and odd image. Cloaked in a black hood was a figure, sword in one hand and two chains in the other.

She fainted…

.

…That memory of meeting Michonne invaded her mind nearly every day. Owing her her life, Andrea gave Michonne a sideways glance as the two trekked along State Highway 24. East. They were always walking east. So did their follower.

.

Noon. The sun was beating down on them harshly. They rarely rested in the morning. The girls discovered that if they rested _too_ soon in the day, they wouldn't want to get back up. And who would? They were surrounded by cruel, unforgiving terrain, and creatures that wanted to eat them. Andrea was a good ten yards ahead of Michonne and The Boys. This often happened. Walkers, in general, were not fast-moving creatures. Whatever their… _species_ was, they weren't very quick. The only time they really increased their speed was when food was nearby. Michonne noted that walkers proceeded much faster when an available food source was human. Andrea remembered shivering when she heard Michonne say this.

But suddenly, Andrea came to a complete stop, near the top of a hill on Highway 24. It didn't take long for a perplexed Michonne to reach her. Something distracted one of the boys, which slowed her down for a bit. But a sharp, almost angry tug on the chains had them back in line again.

Michonne caught up to her and followed Andrea's line of sight.

A house. And not just an ordinary house. It was a _farm_ house. The chances of canned goods, tools used for weapons, and even medical supplies rose exponentially with a farmhouse. Andrea turned to her, with the resemblance of a smile on her face. Michonne returned her cautious eyes to the farmhouse and watched Andrea start to walk in that direction.

"Are you sure?" Michonne carefully asked.

"It's…it's worth a shot."

Michonne studied the house. From a distance, which was considerable, the farmhouse looked relatively untouched. There was no way to tell if anybody was there, living or dead. There were no signs of fire or external damage. Then again, they were at least a hundred yards away and her observations could've been wrong. But as she was studying it, Andrea had already taken at least seven steps towards it. So, with a quick tug of the chains, Michonne walked towards the farmhouse. Their follower did too.

There was no shade to speak of on their hundred-yard trek to the farmhouse. Now and then, the two beautiful survivors took swigs of their lukewarm water, which only seemed to help a little. Sweatbeads became sweat rivers. Andrea angrily brushed her hair out of her eyes and Michonne took another gulp of water. Only The Boys seemed unaffected by the heat. Then again, who cares?

Andrea was the first to reach the farmhouse. With the stealth of a SWAT team member, she pulled her Bowie knife from its sheath and leaned against the side of the house, patiently waiting for Michonne to join her. Andrea turned her head towards her warrior companion. Michonne was tying the chains to a nearby tree and within seconds, had joined her along the house. But Andrea started to notice something annoying and disturbing. Her eyesight was filled with spots now and then. She took another big gulp of her water, which was her last. She knew the heat was beginning to get to her and then was _not_ the time for this. She shook her head, clearing the spots away as best she could. But her peripheral vision continued to be filled with clear evidence of heat sickness.

Tension rose. Approaching a structure was always the scariest part of this process. One never knew what was inside. There could be a walker or two. There could be humans, which was always the bigger scare. Or, there could be a big number of walkers. Or, it could be empty. There were too many variables to take this lightly and the girls were on high alert.

Knife in hand, Andrea was the first one up the front porch. She peered through one of the windows and saw no one. Hearing the sound of Michonne's katana being removed, Andrea more confidently strode up to the front door and turned the knob. It was locked.

She turned and motioned to the side door. Michonne nodded.

The pair sneaked away, down the stairs and back to where they approached. The side door was in front of them and this time, Michonne was the first to try it.

It was unlocked.

After a quick inspection through the door's windows found no one and nothing, Michonne swiftly flung the door open. Warm stale air flooded out of the room and Andrea instantly reached for her water bottle. But it was empty. Michonne didn't notice. Her focus was on the opened door in front of her. Carefully, she tiptoed into the farmhouse. Andrea followed.

They were in the kitchen. It was tempting, oh so tempting, to begin raiding the cupboards. But they learned a long time ago to secure the facility and _then_ scour its contents. They split up. Michonne nodded she would head towards the dining and living rooms. Andrea nodded in return to go through the kitchen to the pantry and back around.

Silence. The girls thanked the heavens above that carpeting muffled their footsteps. Sword extended, Michonne wildly looked around her, verifying room by room that she was alone. Meanwhile, Andrea did the same, ensuring the pantry and back hallway was empty. After about a minute, they had come full circle and were reunited.

The first floor was secure.

The second wasn't.

Michonne went first. But the stairs weren't carpeted. Creaky, haunted house-style floorboards groaned with each step. And the girls weren't in step either, causing multiple creaks and groans to be easily heard. Step by step, they stalked their way up the stairs, to the landing, and back up.

"Psst."

Michonne whirled around. Andrea flicked her head to the left, then pointed to herself, and finally, pointed to the right. Michonne nodded in understanding. They nearly simultaneously reached the second floor. Andrea turned to the right and headed to the only room on that side. Michonne took the left.

The air was stale and hot. And those damn, annoying spots filled Andrea's vision again. But this time, she swayed a little. Rapidly blinking, Andrea gradually regained her composure and took a deep breath before opening the door. After a quick inspection, the room was empty. She turned and followed Michonne.

Michonne, after clearing one room, had already moved to the next. She entered the room, unaware that Andrea was nearby. A relaxed sigh of relief could be heard from Michonne's mouth. The house was clear.

Suddenly, the closet door opened and an open-mouthed walker bounded towards Michonne! She whirled around, but the walker's hands grabbed her! It lowered its mouth towards her throat!

It all happened so fast that Michonne barely comprehended the chain of events. The walker suddenly stopped attacking and fell to the floor. And as it did, she saw the knife Andrea held to kill the walker.

"Thank God." Michonne exclaimed. "Thank you."

But Andrea had no expression on her face. Her vision was now filled with spots and she looked very pale.

"Andrea?" Michonne asked, "Are you O-?"

"Good job, blondie!"

Michonne and Andrea whirled around towards the voice. Michonne's katana quickly went up in defense. But Andrea's jaw dropped in recognition.

"Merle!"

Andrea fainted.

.


	3. Chapter 3

AN -

My thanks once again to precious-passenger for redesigning my avatar to this story. Thank you sooooo much!

Also, Merle, in this story, was never villainous in Atlanta. Other than that, the rest of his character is pretty much the same as the TV show.

.

* * *

.

 _Mud can make you prisoner and the plains can bake you dry_  
 _Snow can burn your eyes, but only people make you cry_  
 _Home is made for coming from, for dreams of going to_  
 _Which with any luck will never come true_  
 _I was born under a wandrin' star_  
 _I was born under a wandrin' star_

Andrea and Merle, with smiles on their faces, were belting out more and more of the Lee Marvin classic. Nighttime campfire intact and bellies-semi-full, they were having the time of their lives. They may have been just a hair too loud in this post-apocalyptic environment. But neither cared. They needed this time. They needed this…happiness.

When the lyric preceding this mentioned 'pack mules', Andrea pointed to The Boys, which got a raucous laugh out of Merle Dixon. But when she looked to Michonne to appreciate the joke, she was greeted with the coldest of warrior stares.

She ignored Michonne and returned to the song. Merle seemed to be having the time of his life. Andrea did too. Michonne did not. And it all began (or started over, with the unexpected reunion), all the way back at the farmhouse…

.

…"What in sam hell are you doin' here?"  
Andrea was slowly coming to. Merle was watching her and getting used to being at sword-point, surprised he was even allowed _near_ the blonde woman.

"I… We were…" Andrea stammered. She looked to Michonne for verbal help, but the former fencing champion and fierce warrior was glaring daggers at the redneck she didn't know at all. Her defenses were up as she stared in silence at him.

"Here," he said, reaching down for Andrea, "let me help-"

But suddenly, Michonne intervened and helped Andrea to her feet. In fact, Michonne effectively stood between the two, her back to Merle. The old boy simply took it in stride, waiting for the warrior to protect her partner. Being a former Special Forces member, he couldn't help but appreciate it. But his defenses were secretly up.

"Let's…let's get out of here." Michonne quickly and quietly said.

"OK." Andrea weakly said.

And just as Andrea and Michonne headed out of the room, a water bottle was suddenly thrust into Andrea's face. Gratefully, she took it and took two enormous swigs, relishing the lukewarm water going down her smooth throat. Merle watched it all, keenly aware that when he reached for the water bottle, he almost knocked the duct tape out of his satchel.

"Thanks." Andrea muttered.

"Don't push yourself." Michonne uselessly said. With a cold glance towards him, Michonne guided a recovering Andrea out of the room.

The girls walked down the steps side-by-side. Merle used his vantage point behind them to inspect their asses. Andrea's pert little butt was just to his liking, but Michonne's was full and round. He preferred Andrea's ass but Michonne's would do nicely. Merle liked the way they moved when they descended step by step by step…

By the time they reached the first floor, Michonne suddenly whirled her head around and discovered where Merle's eyes were. He suddenly looked apologetic and even smiled a little. Michonne was _not_ fooled. She ferociously glared at him, sending an array of violent messages. Well, he got the message. He looked down in submission, hardly being submissive at all. Michonne didn't care. And Andrea didn't notice a thing.

Michonne guided the almost-recovered blonde to the living room and let her plop on the dust-exploding couch.

"Wait here." Michonne gently ordered.

"OK." Andrea responded. By this time, Merle came into the living room.

"That was some fancy killin' up there, blondie."

Andrea smiled, but Michonne suddenly unleashed her girl and put it to Merle's throat!

"Michonne!" Andrea loudly whispered, the loudest volume she could muster.

"Easy now," Merle cooed, raising his hands in a meek surrender. "Easy…"

Michonne simply glared at him. Eye-to-eye, they stared at each other, one protectively glaring and the other trying to make peace. Or, as much peace as one could muster.

"Michonne! Please!" Andrea desperately said, almost regaining her full strength. "I know him."

And still, Michonne did not say a word to Merle. Coldly and very slowly, she removed the sword from his Adam's apple, diverting the pointed end to Merle's chest. Raw seconds passed. Then, Michonne slowly, carefully backed up and gradually lowered her sword. Andrea and Merle quietly exhaled.

So, Merle, the ever-present charmer, tried to diffuse the situation by resuming his praise. "I ain't never seen a girl fight as good as you!" Andrea smiled. But then, he shifted his eyes towards the swordfighter and then back to the blonde. "Until her."

"Yeah," Andrea began, now fully-recovered. "Michonne's amazing." Andrea looked at her only to see Michonne _still_ fiercely glaring at him. But then, Michonne looked at her and her features softened, only to go back in full force when she glowered at Merle.

"What happened to everybody?" Merle asked Andrea.

Andrea sighed. "Well, we left Atlanta."

"Good move there." Merle said, sitting down on a nearby yellow and careworn recliner. The chair unexpectedly rocked a little and his feet came off the floor momentarily. Stunned, he burst out in laughter. Michonne's eyes widened in surprise as did Andrea's.

"Shhh!" Andrea admonished. "Walkers can hear-"

"There ain't no walkers around!" Merle exclaimed. And then, he softened his voice to an almost velvety sound. "At least, not anymore…thanks to you."

Andrea dipped her head a little at the praise as Michonne's eyes narrowed even further.

"Go on." He encouraged.

"Oh. Yes." Andrea said, sitting up a little, crossing her legs. Merle watched her long, model-like legs do this. "Well, after we left Atlanta, we wound up on a farm." And then, her eyes met his. "Daryl stepped up, you know."

"My baby brother did?"

"Yeah." Andrea responded, with a touch of pride. "He really became a valuable member of the group."

Merle looked away in thought. Michonne sat in silence in an old wooden rocker. Andrea continued.

"Later, a herd came through. It was…" Andrea didn't finish. She didn't have to.

Herds are a terrifying prospect. For some reason, a few walkers can turn into a small group. Then that can turn into a large group. Then that can turn into a parade. And _then_ , that turns into a herd – potentially tens of thousands, perhaps more, rotting, and cannibalistic creatures marching in one direction. There was absolutely no defense against a herd.

"You don't have to finish _that_ about a herd." Merle stoically said. "I come across one myself. Never ran so far and so fast in my life!"

"I," Andrea said, as if she were never interrupted, "got separated from the group. I was on the run for a day. That's when I met Michonne."

She looked at her and with a proud smile, she added. "She saved my life."

Merle looked at Michonne with a newfound appreciation. "Well, thanks for saving blondie here!"

Michonne just coldly stared. Andrea was starting to get annoyed by her. But Merle simply took Michonne's reaction in stride.

"By the way," Andrea said, diffusing a suddenly tense situation, "we should probably keep an eye out for walkers."

"Way out here?" Merle asked. "In the sticks?"

"The farm was out 'in the sticks' and a herd came through."

Merle considered this and nodded. "Well, have at it…Meechonne!" He obnoxiously laughed and Andrea dropped her head with an embarrassed smile on her face.

Michonne suddenly stood up!

Andrea and Merle froze, staring up at the fierce former fencing champion. She glowered down at Merle as he merely looked up at her. Andrea's breathing became erratic, frustrated and maybe even a little scared of her female counterpart.

Seconds passed. And still, nothing happened. A gentle breeze flowed through the room, not making any difference to the tense situation whatsoever. Andrea decided to take action.

"Why don't we," Andrea calmly began, "see what's here? We can divide up everything equally."

"We got here first." Michonne whispered.

"She speaks!" Merle exclaimed with a little laugh. Michonne went silent again as Andrea shook her head.

"Come on, guys." Andrea said, standing up. "Let's see what's here."

.

The farmhouse wasn't as much of a goldmine as they'd hoped. They found about four cans of food, a jug of clear water, and a half-empty first aid kit. Merle cut down some wooden furniture for firewood, often brought to him silently by Michonne. Some time passed and they briefly considered staying there for as long as they could. But they quickly diffused that idea once they realized the pantry and cellar doors were broken and completely exposed. A walker could quietly come in during the night and they wouldn't know until it was too late.

Merle was busy in the backyard breaking up a chair. Andrea was making lunch for everybody, her heat sickness firmly in the past. Michonne stood at the sink, staring at the former Special Forces officer. He had no idea daggers were being placed in the back of his head by a former fencing national champion.

Andrea came nearby to grab a dishcloth.

"I don't trust him." Michonne quietly said.

"That's obvious." Andrea dryly said. "Why not?"

"There's…" Michonne trailed off, shaking her head. But Andrea decided to press for more information, staring at her. "There's something wrong with him."

Andrea chuckled. "He may be…rough around the edges." Then, Andrea's voice softened. "He knows what it feels like to be left behind. He got separated from us in Atlanta when we were doing a supply run."

Michonne said nothing.

"I'm sure he's just…worried." Andrea finished.

"Worried?"

"Remember? The part I said about his baby brother, Daryl?"

Michonne slowly turned to her. " _All_ of us have lost people." And then, she turned back to him and coldly said, "He's no different."

"OK," Andrea began, clearly annoyed. " _What_ is your _real_ problem with him?"

"Like I said," Michonne quietly began, "I don't trust him."

"Why?" Andrea rested a hand on the countertop, just a foot away from her friend.

"He's…lyin' about somethin'."

"Lying?"

"Yeah. Lying."

Andrea sighed. "Well, _if_ he is, he may have good reason."

Michonne turned her whole body towards Andrea in betrayed shock. "You're defendin' him."

"Of course I am!" Andrea exclaimed, slamming her hand on the countertop in frustration. "He saved people's lives in Atlanta! It was… _awful_ there…remember?"

For the first time in quite a long time, Michonne looked away in sadness. "Yeah…I remember."

Andrea softened her features. "What happened?"

"What?"

"What happened to you…in Atlanta?"

Michonne surprised Andrea by taking a threatening step towards her. "You know enough."

"I'm sorry, but no I don't!" Andrea said, wide-eyed. "Look, I'm _sorry_. But you know everything about me and I know very little-"

"You know enough." Michonne angrily repeated. Then, she took a step and bolted out of the house, the front screen door slamming. Andrea sighed and turned towards the man cutting wood. He was nearly done, wiping some sweat from his brow. Andrea briefly considered bringing him some water, but didn't want to send the wrong message. She realized he was flirting with her and she was not interested.

However, heat sickness is not what's needed for anyone. So, she finally grabbed a bottle of clear, room-temperature water and walked outside towards him. As soon as she took a step out, the heat hit her. Hard. She knew she was making the right decision for the group. Not for her or Michonne or even Merle. Andrea had grown accustomed to making selfless decisions and surviving as a group is a must in this harsh world. Trust too.

"Here." Andrea simply said, handing him the bottle.

Merle came to a full stop, eyed the bottle, and a boyish, proud smile lit up his face. "Why, thank you blondie!"

Andrea smirked. "Look, Merle…"

"Huh?" He asked, taking a deep drink from the bottle.

"I need a favor, now that you're…back."

He eyed her for a second, screwing the cap back on the half-drunk bottle. "OK. What?"

"Don't call me 'blondie'."

Merle chuckled in surprise. "Well, that's what you are!" And then he laughed. But Andrea was far from amused.

"I know what you're doin'." Andrea said, arms now crossed defensively.

"Oh?" He set the bottle down and grabbed the hatchet again. "And what's that?"

"You're flirting."

"It's," Merle chopped up a chair leg. The leg exploded into splinters. "what I do."

"You don't have to."

Annoyed with the splintered wood, Merle placed a new chair part on the spit and chopped it again, this time successfully.

"Alright."

Andrea blinked, stunned. Then, she collected herself and said, "Thanks."

She turned and got a few steps away before she heard, "Your girlfriend jealous?"

She came to a stop. "What?"

"Meechonne don't like me." Merle simply said. "She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you." Andrea quickly said. "She's just…protective."

"Oh, that she is alright." Merle responded, chopping more wood. "That…" He stood erect and shamelessly looked Andrea's body up and down. "she is."

Something resembling a cold shiver went through Andrea's body in the Georgia summer heat. Without another word, she turned and went back towards the house.

"Lunch will be ready soon." Andrea called over her shoulder.

"Thanks blon-…" Andrea flashed him a look. "Thanks, Ms. Andrea…?"

Andrea smiled.

"Hey, what's your last name, Andrea?"

Silently, she turned and entered the kitchen. Merle laughed…

.

…"You should join in on the singin', Meechonne."

Smile firmly on Andrea's face, she looked up behind her to see Michonne standing nearby, steadfast glare on her face. The Boys were behind her with their dead eyes and dead expressions, chained to the tree.

"If it makes you feel better," Merle began as he was digging through his satchel. Michonne's hand automatically went to Her Girl. "You could have some of this?"

He held out the beef jerky to her. Andrea watched Michonne's internal struggle.

"Have some!" Andrea exclaimed, waving a piece of beef jerky from Merle in her hand. "It's really good."

Merle's smile broadened. "Please, Meechonne. You'll-"

"It's _Mi_ chonne." She coldly said, as she walked over and took the jerky. Then, she mumbled, "Thanks."

"You're very welcome, _Mi_ chonne."

The three sat there and Andrea and Merle wanted the reunion party atmosphere to continue. Andrea was humming a song in her mind, her head bee-bopping right and left. Merle took a swig of water as Andrea and Michonne took two more bites of the jerky. He watched them, a satisfied smile on his face.

"I think you'll like this beef jerky." Merle said, taking yet another drink of water, "I made it myself."

"I really like it!" Andrea said with a smile on her face. "Michonne?"

She inspected her jerky, joined Andrea in a third bite, and sat down beside her. "Yeah. It's good."

Merle laughed out loud. "Don't worry! It won't hurt ya'!"

That's when Andrea fell to the right side, unconscious.

Michonne's eyes widened as she looked at her, concern written all over her face. And then, a mixture of dread and ferocious anger filled her face. She looked over at Merle, wide-eyed and furious. He just smiled at her as she too fell unconscious, almost on top of Andrea.

"It'll just knock you out for a few hours."

.


	4. Chapter 4

Haze... Fog...

She tried to blink her eyes but the bright light was causing her temporary blindness. She kept on blinking though, in the hopes of eventually being able to see. She knew if she kept trying, she'd be able to see more clearly.

She felt a faint nausea too – a low, vicious rumbling in her stomach that almost caused her to hurl. She tried to lean to the right to vomit, since she didn't want to hurl on herself. But something held her back. She tried again. And again, she was unsuccessful.

That's when she realized her hands were tied behind her back. But she was still dazed and couldn't see straight.

She lapsed into unconsciousness again.

.

Time passed. She woke up again, but this time, was a bit more alert. She realized she was in a room of some kind. There were four walls and an open window. There was no door. A shed, perhaps. She wasn't sure! The sun was bleeding through the window, temporarily blinding her. She turned to the right and realized that once again she was tied up.

And then, the pain. Shearing, twisting pain in her wrists. Bound for several hours, the pain coursed through her arms and twisted her shoulders.

Andrea was in a chair. Michonne was nearby on the floor, still unconscious.

Neither woman was gagged. So, Andrea called out…

Only, her voice was staggered from dehydration and a series of coughs erupted out of her mouth. And that's when she saw movement from outside.

Fearing a walker, Andrea tried to scream. But when the movement stopped in the entranceway, that's when she realized who was approaching them.

Merle.

Something about campfire singing…

Beef jerky…

More singing…

More beef jerky…

Dizziness…

And suddenly, Andrea realized what had happened. Instantly, her eyebrows furrowed in anger and confusion.

"Thirsty?"

She didn't answer. She couldn't answer. Rage and a dry throat prevented her response. But that didn't stop Merle Dixon from slowly approaching her, water bottle and her own special twizzly straw of her own, undoubtedly something to remember him by. At least, she _hoped_ that's all she'd remember.

He stopped maybe two feet away from her and dropped into a low squat. From this angle, he had to look up at her slightly. Andrea glanced at a still unconscious Michonne and then right back at him.

Merle chuckled. "I gave her a stronger dose." And then, he scooted closer and closer until he was inches from her face. "I wanted more time with you."

Andrea tried and failed to prevent a shudder running through her entire body. Merle picked up on it and grinned.

"Now, I'll bet," Merle began, standing up and towering over her. "That you're thinkin' the worst."

Andrea said nothing.

"Oh yeah," he continued. "I'll bet you're thinkin' I'll strip your clothes off, have my," he eyed her up and down, eyes lingering a little longer on her acorn-shaped breasts, "way with you. But that's not what's going to happen. Oh, it crossed my mind of course. But no. I wouldn't do that to you… _blondie_."

"Wha-" Andrea began until an enormous coughing fit overtook her. She turned away as violent coughs erupted out of her mouth. Merle finally forced the straw into her mouth along with a full water bottle. He smiled down at her.

"Suck it, baby."

Andrea fiercely glared at him, but took the offered drink anyway. She watched the clear liquid twist and turn in the twizzly straw until it finally reached her mouth. Despite the situation, this water was the best she'd tasted and drank in a long time. That, of course, didn't help her anxiety any. As she sucked, she glanced protectively at Michonne. She almost looked peaceful in her drugged sleep – more peaceful than normal. Andrea frowned. Finally, she pulled her mouth away from the end of the straw and finished swallowing. Merle set the water container down and returned to her face.

"Better?" he asked.

Of course, had Merle been closely watching her, he would've seen that she didn't swallow the last swig. Suddenly, a combination of some water and newly formed saliva was spat on his face! He quickly blinked and recoiled a little at the sudden action. Merle took a step back and wiped his face, an appreciative chuckle bubbling out of his throat.

"Gotta hand it ya' girl. You got spunk." And then, he licked his lips. "I like that." And then, he lowered his eyes to her breasts. "I like that… _a lot_."

Andrea turned her head away from him and muttered, "You're sick."

Merle bolted upright, offended. "I am not! I'm not!" Angrily, he turned, walked over to Michonne, and kicked her thigh.

"Get up!" he screamed. "Wake up, you dumb bitch! Wake up!"

Michonne possibly moved her head a little, but otherwise gave no notice of consciousness.

"H-how much," Andrea began, still a little dehydrated, "did you give her, you sick fuck?"

"Sick?" Merle asked. And then, he sauntered over to her and got right back in her face, in spit-firing range. "Girl, you don't know the half of it. You don't even know what my plans are."

"Yeah?" Andrea challenged. "Well, what are they?"

Merle stood upright but made no other movement. Instead, he played with one of the loose strings on the rope binding her.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Merle almost sadly said.

"Try me."

He looked up into her blue eyes, feeling the hostile sincerity. He studied her for a long moment, weighing his options of what to do next. Then, he abruptly smiled.

"It's been," he began, "a long time since anybody believed anything that came out of my mouth."

"Merle," Andrea exasperatedly began, "just get to the point. What's going on here?"

"Not much for ceremony are ya'?" And then, he laughed – a cruel, oddly high-pitched sound that pierced the shed. Andrea looked up at him like he was insane. But then, a shadow crossed behind him and Andrea's eyes widened. Merle didn't even need to look behind him to know what it was. So, he just casually took a long step to his right, eyes still glued on her, and unsheathed Michonne's sword. Eyes _still_ on her, he swiped it behind with surprising strength and speed.

The walker never saw it coming. It was split in half, like a cruel magician's trick. Blood and guts oozed out of its body. The upper half was still alive as it maniacally reached for them, eyes wide, jaws opening and closing. The lower half finally came to a chicken-headed stop.

And the entire time, Merle stared at her with a cocky expression.

"Sword's sharp, isn't it?"

Merle finally tore his eyes away and stabbed the halved walker. It came to a complete stop, finally dead. He appreciated his work before resheathing Michonne's Girl. He tossed the sword in the corner of the room and sauntered around. Merle Dixon faced the window, the sunlight showing the deep creases in a once handsome face.

"You know," Merle almost dreamily began, "you'd be amazed at people nowadays."

Andrea said nothing.

"There are some… _different_ people." He said. "And yet, they're not."

Andrea coughed once and spit in his direction. Merle chuckled.

"There's that spunk again…"

Andrea checked on Michonne again, who still hadn't moved. Merle didn't even notice or care.

"There's a town." Merle confidently began. "It's called Woodbury. It's run by this…well, I don't even know his name. All I know is that he's called…" And then, Merle turned around and faced her. "The Governor."

Andrea looked confused for a second before neutralizing her features. She urged him to continue.

"Oh, _now_ you're listening to me Andrea?" He playfully asked.

"Do…do I have a choice?"

"Like I said, you probably won't believe me –"

"What's this town?" Andrea asked, changing the subject.

Merle sauntered over towards her as he spoke. "It's a town of about thirty or forty survivors. Everybody works in some way. Place is pretty secure from walkers…unless a herd would come through." And then, he looked away as he came to a stop just inches from her. " _He_ insists…on getting anything he wants.."

Andrea watched him, no longer in awe of this man who once saved people in Atlanta. She was completely disgusted with him and didn't hesitate to show it.

"Why are you telling me this?" Andrea asked.

"Because…" Merle took a step back. "He wanted you."

Andrea's jaw dropped.

"That's right. When I told him about you and Meechonne…oh, I'm sorry. _Mi_ chonne, he wanted you both right away. But he wanted you…especially. You see," Merle chuckled, "he has a thing for…smokin'…hot…blondes."

A completely visible shiver crushed Andrea. Her binds seemed even tighter and she couldn't resist struggling.  
"Oh, don't worry," Merle casually began, "I'll untie you soon. You and Michonne. But I have to make you listen to me and this was the best way I could do this."

"You couldn't," Andrea countered, "just come up and talk to us?!"

"Keep your voice down, girl," Merle warned, "One walker came in here. Another might…if we're too noisy."

Andrea opened her mouth to say something, thought for a second, and closed it.

"But," Merle turned towards the center of the room, standing in the open doorway's sunlight. "you deserve an answer to your question." He cleared his throat. "Like I said, nobody ever believes me when I'm telling the truth…"

Merle almost appeared sad and Andrea almost developed a Stockholm Syndrome-like sympathy for him. But she didn't. She refused. This once admired man quickly became a hated one.

"Do you know what I was before all this?" Merle asked.

"No, and I don't care –"

"A drug dealer."

Andrea huffed and shook her head. "Of course you were."

"And not only that, but I was a crook and a thief." Merle continued. "I may have looked like I was _tryin'_ to be helpful in Atlanta." Andrea raised her head towards him in surprise. "But I really wasn't. I just did…what came as natural."

"That proves," Andrea surprisingly began, "that you _do_ care."

Cruel, suppressed laughter filled the shed or whatever it was they were in. He tilted his head towards the ceiling, his buzz-cut hair almost touching.

"Oh no…" Merle softly began, as he turned his torso back towards her. "I just…I don't know what got into me to help total, fucking strangers risking their dumbass lives in a city filled with the dead." He then turned his whole body and Andrea couldn't help but notice how his frame nearly filled the door. "But I did…and I probably got praised for my actions, didn't I?"

Andrea didn't answer.

"That's a good enough answer." He finished. Then, he shook his head and walked towards her. "But you have a choice ahead of you right now."

"A… choice?" She asked.

"Yeah. You have a choice. And I'm gonna tell you about it right now." He came to a stop and stooped down to her eye level.

"What is it?" Andrea asked, a touch of fear in her voice. It suddenly dawned on her that The Boys were nowhere in sight. He followed her eyes as she scanned the room.

"What are you lookin' for?" Merle dumbly asked. "Michonne's over there and I'm right here and you're –" And then, Merle realized what she was looking for. "Oh…them." Merle smiled. "I killed them."

Andrea was appalled! "Those belonged to Michonne, you idiot!"

"Who cares? They're fucking dead! And we all want them dead!"

Nobody said anything for a few minutes. Merle stood back up and began to untie Andrea's ropes around her ankles. He moved very slowly and methodically, as if he were simply untying a twist-tie from a loaf of bread.

"You need," Merle firmly said, "to make a decision. You need to either submit yourself to Woodbury," Her feet were finally free – tingling sensations roamed her lower body as proper blood flow rescued her sleepy feet. "Or run, baby. Run… But be careful. He'll hunt you down… _forever_."

Andrea looked more confused than ever. "What? Are you sayin' this…this Governor or whatever…wants me as his…"

Merle nodded, a sad smile on his face. Andrea looked away in disgust.

"Or, you can run." Merle finished. "He knows where you are by now." He stood up. "I threw him off the chase, though…for a while."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

From across the way, Michonne groaned and her right leg twitched, but otherwise did not wake up.

"I told him you and Michonne traveled north. But once he realizes that was a distraction, he'll come after all three of us…with a _vengeance_."

"So," Andrea angrily began, "you put her and I in danger?"

"You were already in danger, girl!" He replied. "Do you really want to be his plaything, puttin' the sticks to you? Or have your freedom and go wherever you and your sword-playin' friend were headed?"

Andrea looked away, wiggling her toes to wake them up further.

"So," she began, "you drugged us to tell us this information and put a greater distance between him and us?" Merle nodded. "And you drugged us and tied us up so we'd be quiet and listen?" Again, Merle nodded. "And you don't see that as just a little bit insane?"

Merle smiled. "Would you have listened to me otherwise?"

"Yes!" Andrea all but screamed. "Yes! I would have! You saved people's –"

"Nobody!" Merle screamed back. "Nobody _ever_ believed me before all this happened or since!" He towered over her now, his anger getting louder and louder. "I had to knock you out and tie you, don't you see? I had to! I just had to! It's worked in the past and it'll work –"

BANG!

Everything became slow motion after that. Blood spurts from Merle's forehead splashed against Andrea's face. She squinted at it and dared to look up. Merle seemed frozen as the fresh bullet hole oozed blood from his forehead and he fell to the floor, almost on top of her. Stunned, she looked at him as his body shook a few times and then finally went still.

Andrea looked up.

And in the doorway, stood a tall, dark-haired man, a .45 calibre pistol in his hand.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

.


	5. Chapter 5

She was still too stunned to speak. The man was silhouetted in the mid-afternoon sunlight and said nothing else. Neither person moved yet and gradually, Andrea began piecing together everything in her mind that just happened. Many times, shocking events require that.

Wildly, she looked down and saw Merle's body. He lied on his side facing her as the ever-growing pool of blood almost touched her feet. Almost out of morbid curiosity, she considered touching it with her big toe but held back. She looked over at her trusted friend. Michonne stirred but stayed unconscious. And then, Andrea looked up at the stranger who _still_ hadn't said anything more.

He turned and looked out the door, first to the right, then to the left, and back to the right. Convinced no walkers or other humans were around, he turned back around and holstered his pistol. When that was completed, he took a deep breath and slowly walked towards Andrea.

Instantly, Andrea's defenses went up. Although her feet were free, her hands were still tied behind her. She struggled against them as she looked up at him with terrified eyes. The man came to a stop, hands going up in meek surrender.

"He…" the man slowly began, "he said that he tied you up. That can't have been for a good reason."

Andrea said nothing.

"I'm going…" he began again, "I'm going to untie you, OK?"

Andrea looked at him warily. He sighed.

"I swear," he gently said, "that's all I'm going to do." He took a step forward. "OK?" He took another step forward. And then another. Andrea refused to take her petrified eyes off him. This stranger, this… _killer_ was going to be behind her! And she couldn't see his face!

A few more steps placed him just a few feet from her right. She watched him like a hunter the whole time. She could even feel his fingers working against the ropes for a while.

"That…guy," he casually said, "knew what he was doing when it came to knots." And then, he stopped and cleared his throat. "I'm going to have to cut them, OK?"

Andrea coldly stared at him. So, he sighed again. Silently, he unsheathed his filet knife and sawed the ropes apart. Instant relief smashed Andrea's senses and she rolled her shoulders as her hands found their way to the chair's sides. Suddenly, Andrea stood up only to immediately fall. Angrily, she punched the floor.

"If you haven't," the man began with infuriating calamity, "used your arms and legs in a while, it might take a while-"

"I know that." Andrea snapped. The man went silent. Instead, he turned towards Michonne and started heading towards her.

"Get away from her!" Andrea screamed.

He came to a full stop and turned back towards Andrea. "Not so loud! You want more walkers to hear?"

A slow panic began to set in. She was unable to protect either herself or Michonne and this man continued to be so peaceful and understanding and patient and… _everything_. So, she did the next best thing – she crawled towards Michonne. When she reached her, Andrea checked Michonne over, making sure she was still alive and otherwise, OK. After a moment, a sigh of relief escaped Andrea's lips.

"My name is John.", he simply said.

Andrea said nothing, fixing a stray piece of cloth on Michonne's shirt. Just as she finished needlessly attending to her, Andrea noticed something out of the corner of her eye. A shadow or…

"Here." John said.

She turned and looked up. Michonne's katana was being extended towards her. She looked at him and then back at the sword, snatching it out of John's hands.

"Thanks." Andrea muttered, not even looking back up at him.

Silently, he turned and walked towards the doorway. Andrea's legs and arms were slowly recovering and she found she could sit Asian-style on her legs. Andrea moved a dreadlock from Michonne's eyes and had a water bottle on the ready. After that was completed, she looked up at this strange man, now visible from a perpendicular point-of-view.

He was tall and lean – so lean, in fact, that he might've missed a whole day's worth of food in the past. John had messy brown hair and green eyes, along with a kind disposition. He reminded her of a salesman of some kind from before. From _before_ … She squinted her eyes a little as he continued to be a mystery, standing there in the sunlight. He simply looked out towards the open expanse of grassy fields, probably sensing he was being watched, observed. He didn't object or try to stop her.

The former civil rights attorney saw that he carried a pistol, a filet knife and no other visible weapons. His ratty and holed blue jeans were badly faded from the Georgia sunshine and he needed a shave.

"We have about…" John looked towards the sky and then back to her, "five hours of good sunlight left. We should try to find some food and wood for a campfire."

Andrea stared at him like she didn't know him. "I don't know you. Why would I-?"

"Because in case you haven't noticed," John replied, just a bit impatiently, "your friend is still knocked out and your shoes are missing."

Astonished, Andrea looked down at her barefeet and then around the room. True to his word, her shoes were gone.

"Did you take them?" Andrea accusingly asked.

John sighed. "No." And then, he straightened out his shirt and tugged his weapons belt. "I'm off to hunt. I'll be back."

John left. Andrea felt like she could breathe better as she checked Michonne over again. It dawned on her that Michonne had been unconscious for quite some time and a deep worry began to settle in her. She couldn't stand seeing her fierce friend in this state but was powerless to do anything about it. And then, there was the arrival of this mysterious John guy.

Trust was such a hard commodity in this new world.

So far, John gave her no reason not to at least accept him on friendly terms. Of course, so had Merle. And yet, _both_ men, in their own way, had tried to gain trust. Merle refused to acknowledge his self-worth while John may have projected too much. She shook her head. Even _she_ couldn't make much sense of _that_.

An hour passed. Maybe a little bit more. Andrea, now fully recovered, looked and walked between Michonne and the open doorway. She'd scan the grassy knolls for John and then back to her. Then, she'd walk over to Michonne and wipe her sweaty brow, glancing from time to time at the doorway.

She was nervous. She was anxious. She was annoyed. She was…scared.

Finally, Michonne awoke. At first, all she did was wobble her head from right to left and back again. Andrea was by her side in a flash, trying to tell her not to talk yet. Of course Michonne didn't listen.

"Wha-?" She began until a weak coughing fit hit her. Andrea presented a water bottle to her, but Michonne's arms were tied to her back. Clumsily, Andrea cut the binds and Michonne pulled her arms to her lap. Motor skills impaired, Michonne looked to her for help and Andrea complied. She carefully held the water bottle to Michonne's full lips as their eyes met in the late afternoon sun. Andrea held the bottle with one hand and a cloth in the other, to catch any spilled water.

It was a good thing she did that. Michonne took two gulps of the water before tiny droplets fell on her chin. Softly, slowly, Andrea wiped them away as she leaned closer to Michonne's lips. Their eyes locked as Andrea took care of her friend. After a couple of minutes, and more water consumed, Michonne was finally able to speak, just as Andrea cut the binds to her friend's feet.

"What…?" Michonne started. Her brows narrowed in confusion.

"Merle drugged us."

She looked over at Andrea with a mixed expression of anger and disgust. But otherwise, she said and did nothing else.

"But it's over now." Andrea calmly said. "He's gone now."

"Where?" Michonne asked.

"I killed him."

The girls whirled around and saw John walk in. He had a weathered leather satchel over his shoulder that he dumped on Andrea's chair as he crossed the room. As best she could, Michonne went into defensive mode – she was handed her sword by Andrea and unsheathed it. Michonne started to get up and John watched her. Fiercely glaring, Michonne blinked a couple of times, came to a stop, and crashed back down. Andrea tried her best to ease her fall but simply wasn't there in time.

John watched Andrea soothe her, but Michonne's eyes were glued to him. He was impressed with the warrior's intense, protective nature. Andrea ignored him, tending to her friend.

"Don't push yourself," John said to no one in particular. "It's really hot today."

Michonne narrowed her eyes at him. As expected, there was something about this guy that sent alarm bells exploding in her head. Andrea stood up and spoke.

"Just what do you-?"

"Rabbits." John said, "And a squirrel or two. I thought about fish, but the creek was too far away." Andrea stared at him in wonder. "That's what I have in my satchel, if that's what you were going to ask."

"It wasn't." Andrea coldly said.

John sighed. "Alright." He took up residence in Andrea's old chair. "What's on your mind, Andrea?"

She showed surprise…and disgust. "You know my name."

"Well," John placed his right foot over his left knee. "Yeah. I heard that guy say your name."

Andrea huffed. "Is that all you heard?"

"No."

"What else? Who are you? Why are you-?"

"I promise," John said, placing a hand over his heart. "to tell you as much as I can. Or want. But," he leaned down towards his satchel, "I'm hungry. And I'll bet you are too."

The girls said nothing. John huffed.

"Well, we need a campfire to cook this." John simply said. "I'll get that started."

Probably much too quickly, John got up and practically ran out of the room. Tension could've been cut with a chainsaw as Andrea and Michonne just looked at each other. Sans John, Andrea felt more comfortable to discuss this situation with Michonne.

"What happened?" Michonne quietly asked.

"Merle had me tied up." Andrea began. "He told me something really bad."

"What?"

Andrea sat Indian style beside her. She took a swig of water and offered some to Michonne. She declined the offer, urging Andrea to continue.

"He said… He said that there's someone after us." Michonne's eyes widened. "Well, after _me_ , but you too."

Michonne began shaking with anger. She protectively watched Andrea go on with the story.

"Anyway," Andrea began. She paused to look at the doorway to see if John had returned. When she didn't see him, she continued. "Merle said there's a town of survivors nearby. It's called Woodbury. He told them about us, Michonne. Why he did that I don't clearly know."

Andrea paused. She glanced at the doorway and back again. Michonne's eyes never left Andrea's.

"He made it sound like this guy who runs the place…" Andrea shivered. "He's a dictator or somethin'." And then, her face soured. "Calls himself the Governor."

Michonne looked perplexed. "Why did he drug us just to tell-?"

"I don't knooooow!" Andrea began, a little whine to her voice. "He just did. Seems like he thinks people won't listen to him unless he _forces_ them to or something…"

Michonne looked away, mulling Andrea's words over and over. There were simply too many questions and not nearly enough answers. But one thing was clear to her – Andrea was in danger. And she'd be good and goddamned if anyone would hurt her.

Andrea leaned back, studying Michonne. She watched Michonne's eyebrows, seemingly locked in knitted confusion. She hated seeing this. All too often, Michonne appeared…angry. _Too_ fierce. Too…guarded. But now, with good reason.

Some time passed and soon, the familiar smell of burning wood filled their nostrils.

A campfire. And a strong one at that. Fully recovered, Andrea and Michonne walked out of the shed together. Michonne was just slightly ahead of her, hand on Her Girl just in case.

John stood near the campfire tending to the wood. He kicked some of the wood with his steel-toed boots. Andrea watched him. His face was scrunched with determination, his focus solely on the fire. Michonne didn't move, but Andrea took a full step towards him. And when she did, she felt a firm hand on her left arm. She turned around and met Michonne's fierce scowl.

"I'll be careful." Andrea whispered. Michonne didn't respond.

Andrea turned back around and took several careful steps until she was on the other side of the campfire.

"Talk." Andrea ordered, arms crossed defensively.

John huffed. "You like to get right to the point, don't you?"

Andrea was silent.

"Alright." John said, uselessly kicking a piece of nearly burnt wood towards the fire, a delaying tactic that proved to be way too short. "My name is John."

She looked at him expectantly. "I… _escaped_ Woodbury."

"You did?" Andrea asked, surprised at her own question.

"Yeah…" John answered, eyes glued to the hypnotic fire. "That guy, whoever he was, was right about that place. It's run by the Governor." He spit on the fire. "I hate him."

"Why?" Andrea asked, putting her previous attorney training to good use.

John looked over at her. "He's…awful."

When John said nothing else, Andrea asked, "How so?"

John sighed and reached into his satchel. He pulled out a rabbit and two squirrels. He sat down Indian style and began the laborious task of filleting the marsupials.

Once he decapitated the rabbit, he continued. "He comes across so nice. So pleasant." He darkly chuckled. "He even compliments you when you do a good job."

"And that's wrong?" she asked. Michonne now approached her, the quiet, shadowy, Secret Service agent.

But John fixed a determined stare and turned towards her. "It is when you realize it's false."

Andrea kept her eyes on him but said nothing. He expected her to say something and watched her until he realized she wasn't going to say anything. So, he continued speaking.

"He's like Emperor Palpatine."

"Who?" Andrea asked.

John shook his head. "Never mind. Anyway, he's all smiles and jokes and just a good ol' Southern boy…until you piss him off. And then…"

"Then?" Andrea prompted.

"Well, let's just say…" John hesitated and then added. "He knows how to put you in pain. I'm pretty reliable with my hunting skills, as," John held up his trophies, "you can tell. I brought him fresh kill nearly every day for a month. But one day, I couldn't bring anything back for him. I got surrounded by about seven or eight of those motherfuckers and I had to fight and run. I barely made it back alive."

He set the rabbit corpse down, finished with that task, and started on one of the squirrels. "He…took away my food rations for two days."

The girls' eyes widened in horrified surprise.

"And that's," John quietly added, "just the beginning." He cleared his throat, very clearly uncomfortable with what he was going to add. "Sometimes, I'd see pretty girls walk into his quarters, head held high, excited that the Governor called for them specifically." He turned away and added, "Fifteen minutes later, they'd come running out, crying and some of their clothes torn."

Michonne's eyes widened even further. But Andrea narrowed her eyes.

"How do I know," Andrea quizzed, "that you're telling the truth?"

John got angry. "Well, why don't you go and find out?! Yeah! Go ahead, Andrea. Prove me wrong!" And then, he got up and took an angry step towards her as Michonne flanked them. "That guy said he wants you." Then, he leaned forward, his face just inches from her. "He'll hunt you down for as long as it takes. Then, he'll be all smiles and reassurances and gloat about the utopia that is Woodbury. And then he'll take you to his room and you'll be stuck there. You may not be _allowed_ to wear any clothes." John got more and more intense. "You'll probably be tied down to the bed from what I heard. Yeah, yeah…"

John took a step back, but kept his eyes on her. "Yeah, he'll fuck you good and hard and you won't have a choice." Then, his eyes drifted over to Michonne. "With chicks who are fighters, he likes to blind them." The girls' mouths opened in complete horror. They _shuddered_. He looked back at Andrea. "Don't know why either. I think he likes to tease them when they can't go anywhere. They'd still try to fight him off but can't see him. It's all a fucking game to him." He paused and then looked over at Michonne. "He likes round booties too. I think you would be just his type too, when he's in _that_ kind of mood." And then, he darkly chuckled. "Better keep an eye out for him!"

"Stop!" Andrea screamed. "Stop John!"

Silence. Crackling firewood and nameless insects were both the only sound in the vicinity. John was on a roll and the girls couldn't take it anymore. Who could?

John retreated another step, dangerously close to the fire. And then, eyes still on Andrea, took one more step until he hovered his leg over the fire.

"One time," John quietly said, "he held someone over a fire like this. It was… _his_ method of interrogation. The guy was accused of trying to leave Woodbury." John put his leg down and took a step away from the fire and the girls. He inhaled, held it, and shakily let it out. Finally, he returned his gaze to the suddenly jarred women.

"He controlled," John softly continued, "this rope on a double pulley." John even demonstrated the Governor's actions, "See? Like this? And then," John dropped his arms, "when he didn't get the answer he wanted, he'd relax his grip on the rope." Suddenly, John's eyes brightened.

"Oh! There's something I forgot to tell you about that. You see," John hesitated, and then added, "the guy's completely naked. And his whole body is angled back, like he's trying to do a backwards handstand. That meant that his…"

He stopped. Baffled, the women silently stared in shock at this stranger, telling a terrible, terrible story.

"That meant his… _dick was getting closer and closer to the fire!_ "

John was panting. The girls were shocked. The sun decided it was time to set.

"And," John whispered. "that's only half of the story…"

.

It was very clear, as the night wore on and all three enjoyed meat for the first time in weeks, that everyone had a lot on their minds. Andrea stared into the fire, her elbows resting on her knees. Michonne casually wiped her sword with a cloth but that faraway look was in her eyes…and, of course, John was carefully watched in her peripheral vision. And John was picking at some dirt on his boots, but his gaze was locked on the campfire.

"I", John whispered, shaking the women out of their reverie, "can't go back there…"

"Because you'll be…tor-tortured?" Andrea softly asked. She too was staring into the hypnotizing fire for a long moment. And then she turned to look at him and was astonished to see one single tear on his face.

"Because…" John oh so softly began. He cleared his throat and looked directly at her. "Because he killed my wife and son."

.


	6. Chapter 6

Everything stopped.

In the past twenty-four hours, so much had happened to Andrea and Michonne that it was difficult to comprehend. Shocking events are always hard to process and accept. Surprisingly, horror is not. They'd gotten used to horror. They survived horror and horrific conditions for so long that they'd oddly grown fond of the increased heartrate, the erratic breathing, and the quick actions that horror demanded. But surprises? Well, that was something else entirely.

Merle was gone, replaced by this seemingly ordinary man named John. The campfire began to die down when a question came to Andrea's mind.

"John?" Andrea asked. Michonne carefully watched the exchange.

"Yeah?"

"What's your last name?"

John stared at her in wonder. "After everything that happened recently and after _everything_ you just heard, _that's_ the question on your mind?"

Andrea said nothing.

John sighed. "Swiper."

"Swiper?"

"Yeah. Swiper. S-w-i-p-e-r. Swiper."

Andrea nodded, looking back at the fire. Nobody said anything for a little while, trying to adjust to their new surroundings and new predicaments. Michonne looked up at the evening sky. For the first time in recent memory, clouds hung low, blocking a lot of moonlight. They'd gotten used to nighttime light, thanks to the moon. At least the moon hadn't been affected by the plague that threatened humanity's existence.

Andrea and Michonne noticed that John never asked for her last name. Or, for that matter, Michonne's first name.

Michonne returned her gaze to the beautiful blonde woman who appeared to be sitting a little closer to this mysterious man.

"Andrea." Michonne whispered.

"Yeah?" Andrea responded. She turned away from John and looked at her expectantly.

But Michonne remained silent. Puzzled at first, Andrea simply looked at her. And then, thanks to months and months of friendship and solidarity, she understood what Michonne was trying to say.

 _Be careful_.

Andrea nodded and returned her attention to John.

"So," Andrea non-chalantly began, kicking at a twig near the campfire. "what are you going to do now?"

John leaned back a little, his elbows resting on his knees, warily thinking over his answer. A long moment passed before he heavily sighed. "Don't know."

Andrea looked down in thought for one full second before she looked back at him. "Wanna stay here with us?"

" _What?_ " John _and_ Michonne asked. They looked at each other – one with caution and the other with surprise…and caution as well.

"I…I…" John stammered. His eyes were nearly as wide as Michonne's. But Michonne stared at Andrea, a mixture of confusion and anger on her face.

"We don't know this guy." Michonne said through gritted teeth.

"He's in a bad situation, Michonne." Andrea returned, scratching her head. "Just like us."

Michonne returned her gaze to John. But he didn't say anything, choosing to watch their exchange instead.

"How can we trust him?" Michonne asked Andrea, but her eyes glued on John.

Andrea turned to face him too. "I don't know. But we know we're all being…" And then, her features saddened, "hunted."

Michonne blinked a couple of times before returning to hers. "We don't need the extra-"

"We might." Andrea interrupted, looking into the now-dying campfire. "He knows this…Governor. And he knows the terrain here. Better than we do."

"I'm _from_ Georgia!" Michonne said, just louder than a whisper.

"I know, I knooooow!" Andrea returned. John continued to sit in silence, eyes shifting from woman to woman.

Michonne sighed. "I don't like this." And with that, she stood, affixed Her Girl straighter on her back, and walked away.

Andrea, too, sighed and said nothing further. The campfire continued to die down. John watched Michonne retreat back to the shed. He thought he heard Michonne's Girl swiping through the air but he wasn't sure. Then, he deliberately looked at Andrea.

"I don't want," John carefully said, "to cause any trouble." He shifted his weight and leaned towards her a little, something Andrea noticed with a sideways glance. "But I'm not gonna lie to ya'. I don't wanna be out here alone. _Nobody_ does."

Andrea turned to face him. Faces maybe a foot apart, she noticed his deep brown eyes in a face that might've been handsome with a shower and a shave. John's eyes appeared drowsy as he stared into her blue eyes. Seconds passed as they simply watched each other, noting little things, perhaps even… _feeling_ their gazes.

Someone cleared his or her throat. Andrea and John flipped their heads up, only to see the suspicious eyes of Michonne, just a few feet away from them. Neither of them noticed or heard Michonne's stealthy approach. Or, perhaps, it wasn't stealthy.

"Andrea?" Michonne asked, with just a hint of authority.

"Yeah?" Andrea replied.

Michonne reached in the backpack behind her and pulled out two cans.

"Pears? Or beans?"

Andrea partially smiled at the question, reminiscing how fun-loving and silly the question was in the past. But Michonne wasn't smiling and Andrea sighed a little. This definitely wasn't the same feeling from the last time this question was asked. And they both knew that.

Nearby, a moan was heard. Everybody knew what that meant.

"I got it." Michonne dully said. But before she left, she dropped the cans at her feet, letting them roll just a little towards the campfire. Towards Andrea and John. Michonne unsheathed Her Girl and headed towards the sound. As soon as she was out of sight, Andrea returned her attention to John. They looked at each other, little, polite smiles on their faces.

.

Michonne was returning from her simple task. She was only gone a couple of minutes. But when she was maybe five yards away from them, she heard an unexpected sound from ahead.

Laughter.

Michonne frowned and resheathed Her Girl. She looked down at the ground as she placed pounding steps on the earth, heading towards them. And as soon as she was convinced she'd be noticed, Michonne quickly realized she wasn't. Instead, John and Andrea were smiling and laughing. Her eyes narrowed on him. Or rather, _them_. Michonne briefly considered clearing her throat to get their attention but quickly discounted that idea. She wanted to watch him. She wanted to study him. She wanted him… _gone_.

Maybe.

That thought stopped her in her tracks. Michonne wasn't sure where that thought came from but this John guy felt like a…a headache that wouldn't go away. Or a coupon that recently expired. Or a…

 _Threat_.

She couldn't make sense of it. Instead, she briefly shook her head and walked towards the campfire. Michonne might as well have not even been there. She wasn't noticed until she was almost on top of them. She got to John first. Andrea looked up.

"Hey there!" Andrea cheerily said.

"Hi." Michonne quietly responded.

John twisted around and looked up. "I was just telling Andrea here that I haven't been properly introduced." He extended his hand towards the fierce warrior. "I'm John. John Swiper."

Michonne intentionally stared at his hand and then let her eyes slowly go up to his eyes. All she saw was a kind expression. She slowly extended her hand and shook his.

"Michonne."

"Mich…?" He asked.

"Michonne."

"Michonne." John repeated. "Michonne. I like that name! It's unique."

"Yeah." She said, walking around the campfire and plopping down next to Andrea, intentionally ignoring the blonde's annoyed glare.

Ever since Michonne returned, John and Andrea seemed…distracted or something. Perhaps even nervous. They exchanged sideways glances at each other a few times until they realized how silly that was. Relieved smiles adorned their faces as Michonne simply watched.

"You know, John," Andrea began, tossing a stick into the campfire. "When I was younger, I used to-"

"Andrea?" Michonne interrupted.

Andrea turned towards her. "Yes?"

"I…" Michonne looked towards the fire, struggling with her words. Andrea watched, a little perplexed. Finally, Michonne finished her question. "I have more beans. And pears."

Andrea narrowed her eyes in confusion. Michonne just looked down. Silence followed after a while. Nervous hands performed a variety of tasks – John looked around, checking for walkers. Andrea unnecessarily pulled her ponytail a little tighter. Michonne wiped Her Girl from time to time.

They'd all gotten used to horror.

They'd all gotten used to suspense.

They'd even acclimated to starvation.

But awkwardness? Well, that was something entirely new altogether. And it was all caused by John Swiper.

.

Morning. Dying embers from the campfire spit into the air. Clouds hung low, darkening the landscape and a chilling breeze blew over them. Odors of Merle's rotting body stabbed their nostrils. The three survivors simultaneously blinked their eyes, sat up, and stared at nothing. Michonne and Andrea scanned the area for any immediate walker threat. Concluding there were none, they began the laborious, repetitive task of waking up and preparing for the day. But there was a new equation to their little group – John.

"Michonne?" John suddenly asked.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna hunt for breakfast with me?"

She didn't even try to hide her surprise. From her slightly reclined position, Andrea tried her best to hide a smile.

"OK." Michonne hesitantly replied.

"I'll get everything packed up." Andrea supplied. And then, she came to a stop. "Oh! I forgot something."

"What?" John asked before Michonne could.

"I need shoes."

"Oh! That's right!" John exclaimed with a little laugh. Then, he cleared his throat. "Maybe when Michonne and I hunt, we could find a walker with shoes that might fit you."

"I'll check the shed." Michonne said. "They might be in there."

"OK." Andrea said to both.

"I need to take a leak. Then we'll go." John said to Michonne.

"Me too." Michonne replied.

"TMI, guys!" Andrea said, a little smile on her face. That got a laugh out of John and perhaps a little grin from Michonne. Maybe.

The three separated to fulfill their early morning biological needs. Within minutes, they'd returned. Andrea began scooping up their belongings, struggling to comprehend how they'd carry everything since The Boys were disposed of. Michonne, as promised, went to the shed. John just kind of stood there, watching everything unfold around him. Soon, the girls returned, sans Andrea's shoes.

"Well…" Andrea began, scratching her head. " _If_ you can find a walker with shoes that might fit, I'd appreciate it." She looked up at John, noting how the clouded sunshine made his brown hair that much brighter, which seemed extraordinary. Michonne watched, mildly annoyed. But John just smiled back.

"You bet." John said.

"Let's go." Michonne announced. And without warning, she walked east. John followed with a little wave the Andrea. Andrea waved back. And Michonne purposely didn't notice a thing.

.

"Thank you."

Michonne came to a stop. They'd progressed into the woods in complete silence for what must've been at least ten minutes. John quickly realized the day before that Michonne would be a tough nut to crack.

And he was absolutely right.

"For what?" Michonne asked.

John inspected a low trawl of dirt for signs of any marsupials or even rodents. "For letting me stay."

Spotting something in the distance, Michonne unsheathed Her Girl and said, "I haven't promised anything yet."

John quieted his voice. "I know. But you didn't have to at all."

The pair walked stealthily towards a suspicious noise. Their grumbling bellies told the story of what was needed in the short term, but any walker threats had to be dealt with as well.

"I don't trust you." Michonne quietly added, sneaking around an oak tree. She waved to him to position himself along a neighboring tree.

"I know." John said. "I wouldn't either in your position."

John nodded towards the northeast and Michonne looked. Having come to some sort of conclusion, she looked back at him and nodded in reply. The two hunters walked a few more steps until their prey was spotted – a female walker.

The common soft moans of the walker invaded the serene silence of the morning. Michonne motioned to John and an unspoken agreement was made. John nodded.

He headed towards the open area as Michonne silently flanked behind the walker. John waved his arm.

"Hey idiot!" John loudly said.

The walker saw him, eyes widening and mouth open. That's when the katana slashed through its mouth, effectively ending its harrowing life. It collapsed in a dead heap, pun intended.

Sandals. Of course the walker would be wearing sandals.

"I think," John said, stooping down to snatch the shoes, "that these will work."

Michonne sighed and resheathed Her Girl. "We'll see."

"Let's head back-" John began, but came to a complete halt.

Michonne did too. Their eyes simultaneously widened and the hunters dropped to the ground. A sound could be heard in the distance. It was a sound neither had heard in a long time.

A car. And it was approaching their area. Fast!

They motioned to each other and quickly crept through the woods, pushing branches and twigs out of their way. The car's engine revved even louder as John and Michonne approached Highway 24. And right when they ducked down out of the car's sight, that's when John's eyes couldn't have gotten wider.

The car breezed past them at high speed. The driver and its three occupants didn't see them and the sounds of the vehicle quickly died away.

"Oh…my…. _God!_ " John exclaimed, eyes exhibiting sheer terror.

"What?" Michonne asked, concerned for the first time for his well-being.

He fully turned his body towards her, hand automatically going to his gun.

"That was the Governor!"

.


	7. Chapter 7

They were panting.

Their labored breathing matched their physical ability to jump over logs, rocks and even fallen trees. They weren't even checking for walkers along the way. They had to get back to camp – _fast!  
_  
Andrea heard their careless noise and immediately grew concerned. Michonne rarely looked this…scared. And John's eyes couldn't have been wider.

"What's wrong?!" Andrea nearly screamed.

Within seconds, Michonne and John reached the camp…and ran right past Andrea! With furious speed, they began gathering up their belongings. John made sure everything was secure while Michonne checked if anything was left in the shed.

Andrea couldn't take it anymore.

"What the hell happ-?!"

"We've gotta go." John hastily interrupted.

"Now!" Michonne loudly whispered, returning from the shed.

"What's going-?"

"Not now." Michonne said. "Let's go!"

Totally baffled, Andrea obeyed. She learned a long time ago to completely trust Michonne. And she rarely saw her friend this…nervous! No, not nervous. Michonne Anthony was scared. And when Andrea looked at John Swiper, all she saw was raw fear.

Now, Andrea was scared.

Within seconds, they were on their feet and headed east. They stayed close to State Highway 24 but were not on it. After a few minutes of near running, they eventually slowed to fast walking. John often had to come to a complete stop – his long legs would get ahead of the girls and he needed them.

"He'll send patrols." John said to Michonne. "They'll be on foot. We have to keep moving."

"Will one of you-?"

"The fucking Governor." Michonne responded.

"W-what?!" Andrea screamed.

"Shut the fuck up, Andrea!" Michonne and John said. Stunned that they had the same thought and exclamation, they turned back to the weeds in front of them, at least fifty yards away from the highway. John anxiously looked around them, spinning on his heels from time to time.

Suddenly, a walker emerged from a nearby tree, bounding for Michonne. But when she reached for her katana, the walker had already grabbed her, knocking her to the ground!

"Mich-!" somebody screamed.

But it didn't matter. A knife invaded the back of its skull and the walker fell to the side. Michonne looked up only to see John, his filet knife dripping with blood. He shook it, to get the blood off, and offered his other hand to her. Wide-eyed, she took the hand and propped herself up. And when John tried to release his grip, he found Michonne wasn't letting go. He turned around, only to see a slightly embarrassed look on her face. Finally, she let go.

"Th-thank you, Jo-John."

"Anytime." He replied. "And I do mean that. Any. Time."

As they deftly moved through the forest, Andrea got the whole story from John. While she heard the devastating story, her facial expressions changed from shock to horror to anger and back to shock. When John finished telling her what they saw, he and Michonne found themselves suddenly trying to keep up with Andrea!

"We've," Andrea began between pants, "gotta get out of here!"

"You don't," John said, grabbing Andrea's arm and forcing her to come to a complete stop. Behind him, Michonne did the same. "have to tell me twice. But we've got to be smart about this." John wildly looked around and then returned his intense stare to Andrea. "But he's hunting. And he'll keep hunting. And we're the prey. So, we've got-"

"We," Andrea angrily interrupted, "would've had more information if you hadn't killed Merle!"

Everything came to a standstill after that. Michonne watched her friend furiously stare at John. The forest was eerily silent – not even a bird was chirping. John shifted his weight as he too angrily stared back at her.

"In case you've forgotten," John nastily whispered, "that man…Merle, was his name?...whatever. In case you've forgotten, he had you and your friend tied up. That's not normal. That's not what should've happened! That's not what the Governor-"

John stopped talking. Andrea's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and curiosity.

Suddenly, John turned on his heel and high-stepped away from her!

"Now," Andrea all but yelled, trying to keep up, "wait just a goddamned minute!"

But John didn't slow down. Andrea tried her best to keep up with his long legs and Michonne actually sprinted towards them like a hunter – head down, one hand on katana.

"John!" Andrea yelled.

John came to a stop. "Shut up, Andrea!"

The girls caught up to him.

"Just what did you-?" Andrea began, but John took off again!

Infuriated, Andrea picked up her pace, closely followed by Michonne.

It was almost comical to see the trio in action. John fastwalking and taking the lead, while Andrea angrily tried to talk and keep up. Michonne simply watched everything unfold before her eyes, basically running, watching, and listening….

An hour passed. Maybe two. They were moving fast under the Georgia sun, passing this field or that street. They only slowed when confronted with hilly terrain and a walker or two were easily dispatched by the girls before John could. As the hot, sunny hours passed, they slowed down for two major reasons – dehydration and hunger.

Suddenly, John came to a full stop, just outside a clearing in the woods. Michonne quickly realized that John was leading them…somewhere. With narrowed eyes, she approached him.

"Where are you taking us?" she accusatorily asked.

"East." John simply said.

"East, huh?"

John glared at her. "Yeah. East." And then, he took a challenging step towards her. "Got a problem with tha-?"

"I don't have a problem."

What had been a fast and relatively peaceful jaunt through the woods suddenly turned into hostility. Andrea rolled her eyes at the pissing contest before her.

"We're all," Andrea peacefully began, "tired and thirsty and hungry. Let's all just…" she put her arms up in a meek surrender, "calm down and eat."

Michonne and John continued the little staring contest for several more seconds before a fed-up Andrea squeezed between them, facing east.

"Please." Andrea insisted.

Finally, finally, the battling duo separated and began setting up a mini-camp for lunch. _Easy-peasy, Japanesy,_ Andrea thought.

All three got to work – John grabbed some cans of food, Andrea assembled three water bottles, and Michonne inspected her sword.

"I'm off to hunt." Michonne simply said.

"But," John argued, "we have plenty of canned-"

"I'm _off_ to hunt."

And with that, Michonne turned about face and left. Bewildered, John turned to a now Indian-style seated Andrea, looking for answers.

"She does that." Andrea simply said.

John shrugged and walked over to her, also sitting Indian-style right beside her. The clearing was only partially shaded from the Georgia sun and they were both hot anyway. Andrea fiddled with her hairband just as a can of refried beans was placed in front of her. She looked over at what John had for himself and almost instantly, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Pumpkin pie filling?" she asked.

"Well…" John turned the can around a couple of times, "it's nutritious."

Andrea stifled a chuckle as John turned to her and smiled. She noticed how white his teeth were despite the fact that he probably hadn't brushed them in several days. Perhaps longer. She smiled back, noticing that his eyes drifted away as well. A slight feeling of tension could be felt in the air and they both just started eating. After a few bites were ingested, Andrea turned to him.

"You know," Andrea began as she scooped another bite on her spork, "I'm not going to let up on my questions…from before."

John came to a grinding halt. And then, he purposefully scooped up some pie filling on _his_ spork. "I know…"

A few more bites of the salt-challenged food were swallowed before they simultaneously reached for their water bottles. The surprising, uncanny move by both of them caught them off guard and silly, little, embarrassed laughs bubbled out of their mouths. They smiled at each other as the Georgia sun bellowed all around them. They set their water bottles down and resumed eating lunch.

They ate in silence. It was strange in this harsh, new world to be in the woods and be surrounded by silence. Rarely were birds even heard. As animals succumbed their lives to the walkers, fresh kill was just then starting to become more difficult to find. Regardless, the trio were often successful finding canned foods, fresh berries and mushrooms, and even tree bark and moss. But that didn't mean their bellies were consistently full.

After a few minutes, John and Andrea finished their meals. Again, they simultaneously finished. And then, John boyishly smiled at Andrea, his empty can in his hand. Andrea did the same. And together, they threw their cans into the woods at the same time. Humor was scarce in this new, scary world and simple actions like throwing empty cans into the woods at the same time, once considered trivial, were then funny.

They laughed. Smiles adorned their faces as they eventually calmed back down, staring into each other's eyes. Brown eyes met blue eyes for a long moment until it got kind of awkward. Andrea was the first to look away, while John continued to stare at her. He loved the way her dirty blouse hung on her lithe body and Andrea secretly loved his confidence.

"John?"

He brushed some dirt from his pants needlessly. "Yeah?"

"Where are we going?"

The question halted him briefly until he assuredly answered, "East."

"I know that. But…"

"Andrea," John began, hopping on the ground and facing her, "we've _had_ this conversation before. We're just…" John glanced to the right and then back to her, "heading East. That was your original plan, wasn't it?"

"Y-yeah…"

He leaned towards her a little before softly asking, "What's wrong?"

Andrea found a twig and played with it. "It just seems…Michonne's right."

"About what?"

"Heading East."

"Like I said, that was your original-"

"Not like that." Andrea looked over at him, stunned at how close John was to her, "I mean, it _seems_ like you're taking us… _somewhere_."

John sat up straight, eyeing her directly. "Just East. I have no specific destination in mind." And then, his voice softens. "And besides, your idea isn't bad. The chances of finding safety _would_ be on an island, where walkers can't get to."

Andrea nodded, breaking her twig in half. She casually threw one piece away, playing with the smaller part. John watched her, knowing she was still a little suspicious. He loved her delicate fingers, dirty and a little bloody, twirling the little, unoffending twig. Suddenly, she looked over at him, seeing where his eyes were.

"What?" Andrea asked, her fingers coming to a full stop.

Embarrassed, John looked down. But Andrea huffed in frustration!

"There you go again!" she all but yelled.

He looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you tell us a terrible story about the Governor and Woodbury and then you _clam up!_ How in the good, goddamn hell are we supposed to believe or even _trust_ you?!"

"I _am_ ," John dangerously began, leaning towards her, "telling the truth!"

"Oh really?"

" _Yes_ , really!"

"Well, how about _earning_ it?"

John looked confused and leaned closer. "H-how? And why should I?! I've been helping you and Michonne since we met! What else do you-?"

"Why did you _really_ kill Merle?"

Everything stopped. John's frustrated and angry eyes flashed in front of hers and nothing was said. Andrea leaned closer to him and huffed again.

"See?" Andrea whispered. " _That's_ what I mean. You killed Merle. You killed him!" She got more and more intense. "You waltz into my life with all of that cocky confidence and swagger and kill the one person, the _one person_ , who could've helped us! You _killed him_! And then you bring up something about 'what was supposed to happen' and you _seem_ to know more about the Governor _than you're letting on_! We're walking on what looks like a path towards the East and you say, 'oh I'm just heading East', like we're supposed to _believe that!_ You better start talking Mr. John Swiper because I don't know how much more of this _I can fucking take!_ "

Andrea was panting, inches from John's wide-eyed face. And then, it happened.

John kissed Andrea. He firmly clasped both sides of her face, planting a hard kiss to her lips. Stunned, Andrea sat rooted to the spot for a long moment before she found her arms going around his neck! The kiss shifted and went on for what felt like hours, adding to the heat between them under the Georgia sun.

Suddenly, the gravity of what they were doing hit them. Andrea was the first to pull back, pushing at John's chest. And then, he finally released her. They bolted upright and sat staring straight ahead.

It couldn't have been a better time for Michonne to return. Unfortunately, she didn't come back from her unsuccessful hunting trip until later. _Much_ later. And as the sun shifted in the sky, indicating the passage of time, she eventually arrived. And when she did, she saw the two of them sitting Indian-style, staring East, both wide-eyed and silent. She eyed them carefully, as she was prone to do lately. With all of the shocking, recent events plaguing everyone's minds, and trying to survive in this harsh world as prey, it was no wonder her companions were a little…stunned or something.

Shrugging, Michonne sat and ate pumpkin pie filling.

.

Dusk. Ordinarily, this would've been the time for the girls to setup a campfire, prepare and eat dinner, talk, sometimes reminisce (but that could be dangerous), and bond before drifting off to sleep. But not that day. All three had been on the run and they were surprised they didn't fall asleep on their feet, when they agreed to stop for the day.

Panting and wobbling, John and Andrea fell to their knees on the forest floor. Michonne too, swayed a little, letting Her Girl fall off her back. It was a good thing there were no walkers around.

But Michonne had enough wherewithal to unpack the bedding for her and Andrea, tossing the blonde hers. John would just have to make due without, just like the previous night.

There was just enough natural sunlight left to see their exasperated, baggy eyes and dirty faces. Andrea missed the evenings when she could wash her makeup off, after a hard day's work at her law office. She quickly dismissed that thought.

John too longed for the time when he could unwind with his wife and son-

He, too, quickly shook that thought away.

Only Michonne seemed to just get down to business. "I'm too tired to even eat."

"Me too." John _and_ Andrea chorused. They briefly looked at each other, but did not smile. And just as quickly, they looked away. Michonne was too exhausted to notice the vague feeling of…something. Something akin to…whatever. She just flopped on her makeshift bed and stared at the sky.

Meanwhile, Andrea struggled to get comfortable, annoyed with some twigs under her bedding. Eventually, she brushed them aside and was able to relax as she, too, stared up at the night sky.

John grumbled. In Andrea's peripheral vision, she could see John trying to get comfortable, hijacking a rotted log as a pillow. When he finally got as cozy as he could get, he determinedly flipped on his left side, away from the girls. But then another groan escaped his mouth as something irritated him again and, with a little snarl, he flopped on his other side, facing Andrea.

They forced their eyes _not_ to meet.

And barely another minute passed before deep, steady breathing from three human survivors filled their immediate area.

Some time passed. Insects chirped and lightning bugs lighted. Their sweaty and dirty bodies could've used a comforting, cooling breeze, but one or a dozen weren't available that Georgia night. And _the_ absolute best sound that evening was the absence of walker moans.

Andrea didn't even feel John's arm casually go around her sleeping form. John didn't even realize he did it. And the two of them were none to the wiser for it either.

But Michonne did. By that point, she had turned on her side, facing Andrea. Months of companionship taught her to always keep an eye on her friend, since danger could easily erupt around them. What was that, that Andrea once said? – _A good soldier never leaves her post_.

Michonne scooted just a hair closer to Andrea and put her arm around her friend's waist. And barely a second went by before John's eyes opened. And when they did, he was greeted with most hostile, _protective_ glare he'd ever seen.

.


	8. Chapter 8

When they all awoke, the first thing John and Michonne saw were each other. With Andrea as their buffer, they simply stared at each other. Unreadable expressions on their faces, but completely known feelings in their hearts, they both realized that their arms were no longer around Andrea. And Andrea started to wake up.

John and Michonne immediately turned away from each other. Andrea stretched her long, thin arms into the air and then abruptly brought them down. She looked to her left and smiled at Michonne. She just stared at her. Then, she turned to the right and smiled at John. And he too just stared at her. But in the haze of waking up, she was none the wiser about what happened the previous night.

Andrea sat up and immediately reached for her water. A brief epithet escaped her lips when she realized a few twigs or something had gotten in her water bottle. She took a drink anyway. Without saying a word, Andrea got up and left them to urinate.

John and Michonne turned to each other, _still_ not saying a word. But their expressions weren't hostile. Instead, they maddeningly just… _looked_ at each other, like they were playing poker. What could be said in this odd situation?

Canned food breakfast was consumed in silence. Water was done the same way. A final check of their bundles and supplies had Andrea playing a game of pinball with her head.

"Did," Andrea carefully began, "something happen that I'm not aware of?"

"No." John said, not looking at her.

"No." Michonne quietly said, adjusting Her Girl on her back.

"OooooK! Just checking…"

And with that, they went on their merry way. East. Always, always heading east. Led by John, of course.

.

By mid-morning, they had to take a break. It was an unusually hot summer morning in eastern Georgia and, even though they were on the run, they had to be careful with the heat and water consumption. By silent agreement, they all took a break. Michonne and John went completely separate ways – one to a nearby tree, and the other resting on a dilapidated log. Andrea was in the middle, hands on her hips, looking at the both of them. She knew something was wrong or something, but she didn't inquire any further.

"We'll need water." John said. "I think there's a creek over this way." He pointed to the right. "I'll go check. Gimme your water bottles." The girls complied. "I'll be back." John left.

Andrea all but collapsed on the forest floor, stretching her long legs straight, resting on her hands. Michonne just looked at her, a blank expression on her face. She noticed that Andrea seemed a little out of breath.

"You should take an antihistamine."

Andrea looked up and saw a proffered pill in Michonne's hand. Smiling, Andrea took the pill.

"Thank you." Andrea gratefully said. But then, her eyebrows furrowed as Michonne sat down beside her.

"But…there's no wat-"

Suddenly, a small, Army flask was shoved in her face. Andrea laughed out loud.

"You sneaky little devil!"

For the first time in quite a while, Michonne chuckled. She actually laughed a little at Andrea's dumb little joke. And as Andrea popped the pill in her mouth, she took the flask from Michonne's hand, her fingers gliding along Michonne's.

"Be careful with it." Michonne warned.

Andrea looked at her suspiciously. "Is this…water?"

Michonne just grinned. "Just try it."

With narrowed, ornery eyes, Andrea took a swig and nearly coughed the pill out of her mouth. But, she caught herself, tipped her head back, and swallowed the pill.

"Thank you, Michonne. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime."

Andrea appreciatively smiled. She handed the flask back to Michonne, who put it in her backpack. Once that was done, she turned back to the blonde, staring at her face. Andrea looked at her with a perplexed expression.

"What?" Andrea asked.

"I just…" Michonne scratched her eyebrow once or twice before adding, "I just can't get over…" And then, her voice dropped to a whisper, "how beautiful you really are."

Andrea was at a loss for words. Embarrassed, she dropped her head, loving the admiration but completely unprepared for it. A few seconds passed before Andrea felt a strong finger on her chin, lifting her head back up.

Passion. Longing, passionate eyes met in the forest clearing as woman stared at woman. A little confused, Andrea looked at her as Michonne's finger traced Andrea's so, so soft lips, cheek and chin. Andrea fell into Michonne's touch, eyes closing, and mouth opening.

Soon, Andrea's eyes completely closed as she reached for her friend's elbow, gently stroking. Michonne shifted her fingers to Andrea's delicate neck, finding a sensitive area that elicited a delicious moan from Andrea's lips. Andrea tightened her grip on Michonne's arm, gracefully rising to her shoulder. And that's when lips met.

Soft. Such a soft, short, sweet kiss and Michonne and Andrea continued to touch, feel, explore… Andrea opened her eyes only to see Michonne's eyes open as well. They were drugged with their passion as they kissed again, but this time, it lingered and grew in intensity. Michonne shifted her head and glided her hand along Andrea's shoulder, squeezing and so urgently massaging. More moans, more kisses, more touching….

"I love you." Michonne whispered. Andrea's eyes slightly widened.

 _Snap!_

The girls instantly separated. But not before A _ndrea_ reached for the katana and _Michonne_ reached for Andrea's knife. Stunned, they looked at each other for an instant before they realized John was returning.

"I'm back!" John announced. The girls' hearts were still pounding as they looked at each other, sheepishly returning each other's weapons. They wondered why it got so much hotter all of a sudden. Well, not really.

John busied himself with ordinary tasks while the girls _looked_ like they were busy. He was oblivious to their tension. The sun slightly rose higher in the sky (it was going to be another hot day that day!) and a distant moan or two could be heard in the woods. Michonne stomped the campfire out and Andrea tossed empty cans into some brush. John had just finished wrapping up his bundle and Michonne quietly approached him.

"Let's go hunt." Michonne quietly said to John, _much_ to Andrea's surprise.

John studied her for a second before complying. Andrea, a half-smile on her face, secretly loved how they seemed to be getting along. Smile intact, she too tied her bundle together, annoyed with the sudden clanging noise from their frying pans. She thought they were ready to leave. But apparently, Michonne had other plans.

Silently, John and Michonne left. Andrea was mildly surprised that John and Michonne headed south instead of east. She watched them swiftly move through more brush and hop over dilapidated tree trunks until, a few seconds later, they were out of her sight.

The two hunters walked in silence. No words were needed. Basically side-by-side, Michonne and John were looking for signs of life – animal and walker foot prints, damaged leaves, chewed tree bark, animal droppings, etc. Eyes scanned, ears perked, and mouths stayed shut. One looked to the left while the other looked to the right as they methodically pushed through the woods.

And every time they felt the need to make eye contact, it was simultaneous and appropriate. Communicative even. Head nods said to go this way. Subtle hand waves said to do that. They worked together well in the woods.

 _In the woods._

The pair was slowly leaping across a log. John looked up at all the seemingly endless trees in wonder and Michonne steadied Her Girl.

"Back off." Michonne whispered.

John came to a stop. "Huh?"

"You heard me." She responded, slowing her pace a little. She scanned to the right and nodded to him. With understanding, he began walking that way, Michonne in tow.

"Did it ever occur-?" John began asking, but quickly stopped talking. Michonne's instincts kicked in too. They looked to the right simultaneously and saw the threat.

"I'll-" She started.

"I know."

She glanced at him with a mixture of surprise and annoyance before watching him casually stroll towards the walker. Michonne crept forward and slightly left, flanking the rotting corpse.

"Hey idiot!" John yelled.

The walker turned its torso towards him and its eyes widened. They would've opened even further if it wasn't for the sword that suddenly emerged from its left eyesocket. She swiftly removed the blade and the threat was vanquished. Shaking her sword with one harsh stroke, she resheathed it and started walking. John, by that time, had already been approaching her.

"We should check-" John began.

"I got it." She interrupted.

He eyed her curiously, keeping pace until she came to a stop right beside the walker. Kneeling down, she inspected its feet and let a soft curse word out.

"What?" John asked.

"Barefoot."

He sighed. "Well, we can find Andrea better shoes on some other-"

" _I'll_ find them for her."

John put his hands on his hips as Michonne rose to full height. She looked at him with clear hostility while he looked at her with anticipation. A soft breeze tousled some of his brown hair and harsh odors from their fresh kill invaded their nostrils. They didn't seem to care. It looked like Michonne had more to say. And never a truer statement was said.

"Talk." John simply said.

"I am." She replied, STILL glaring katanas into his eyes.

John let his head roll a little before returning to her. "And stop glaring at me! We're on the same side, you know?"

"Are we?" She accusingly asked.

He narrowed his eyes a bit. "Yeah. We are. Got a problem with-"

"I don't got a problem."

They stared at each other as the Georgia sun burned down on them. And quite suddenly, he chuckled. "It's 'I don't _have_ a problem.'"

 _This_ time, it was Michonne who rolled her eyes. After that, she merely stared at him, but did, in fact, stop glaring at him. Then, she simply turned to the left and started walking. John watched her take a couple of steps.

"I mean you no harm." He said.

Michonne came to a dead stop but didn't turn around. "Do you know how many sci-fi movies have used that statement as a harbinger of doom?"

John's eyes widened in surprise as he took a few steps towards her. "Well, you, Ms. Anthony, have quite an educated mind there!"

"I know," Michonne calmly said, "that you meant that as a compliment," she slowly turned and faced him just as he came to a stop a few feet away, "but that was rude."

John noncommittally turned away. "Sorry."

"If you're gonna say 'sorry', say it like you mean it."

 _Now_ , John was getting angry. "Look, Michonne. I've been helpful and useful. And it's pretty obvious you and I are a _perfect_ fit out here in the woods." He extended his arms out towards the thick forest. After a moment, he let his hands drop to his sides. "But you have got to relax about-"

"I don't gotta do anything!"

"There you go again!"

"With what?"

"It's 'I don't _have_ to do any-!'"

"Oh shut up!"

"You shut up!"

"Why should I?"

"Because you're being an immature brat!"

Michonne's eyes narrowed and she took a bullying step closer to him. "I fucking dare you…" And if it were any more possible, she took yet another step towards him until she was inches away from his face. She slowly said, "I fucking dare you to say that again…"

"Michonne," John softly began, "what are we doing?"

Stunned, she rapidly blinked several times, backed up, and turned to walk away. She would've gotten further away until she felt a soft hand on her wrist.

"Please, Michonne." John pleaded. "What's going on?"

Hand still on her wrist, she gradually turned around and faced him. Hurt eyes met confused eyes and a long, impassioned moment passed between them. A walker moan could be heard far in the distance. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. He let go of her wrist and turned his whole body slightly to face her. John patiently waited.

Michonne tried again. Silence. So, John took the bull by the horns.

"I swear that all I want," John quietly yet confidently said, "is to find a safe place and live the rest of my life." Michonne's eyes were glued to his as he continued, "After the Governor…" he cleared his throat, "k-killed my wife and son, I didn't feel like I had a reason to live." Her eyes widened for the briefest of moments and then were forced back to neutrality. "That doesn't mean I wanted to kill myself."

John turned towards a dead tree trunk and laboriously sat down. Michonne stayed rooted to her spot.

"That just means," he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, "I had nothing to look forward to. I had no…absolutely _no_ reason to get up in the morning." And then, he darkly chuckled. "Well, there's one thing the Governor did for me." Her eyes narrowed in confusion. "He started ordering me around. He ordered me to get him fresh kill for his dinner. Every single fucking night… I figured there was no harm in it and I basically had no choice. So, for a long time…a long time indeed, I just hunted. I was a hunter. I was…lost…"

Michonne watched the little flickers in his eyebrows, his mouth, his eyes, his…everything. Finally, she turned and squatted down on the heels of her feet, staring at him. When he looked over, he could've sworn he saw something akin to sympathy in her eyes, but he wasn't sure. She nodded for him to continue. So, he did.

"And then I met Andrea." John said, purposefully looking her in the eye. "And…I don't know how to put this, but…a small piece of me started coming back. And as the days went on, even more came back. And then…" his eyes intensified, "I met you. And even more came-"

"Stop." Michonne painfully whispered.

Confused, John asked, "What?"

"Just stop. I get it now. I get it… _more_ than you know…"

John nodded and looked down. They could feel the sun of course, but this time, the light and heat beat down on different locations on their bodies. Time had passed. And Andrea had been left alone.

And, as true hunters, they had the same thought at the same time.

"She's…" John began, lifting his head towards her. He was mildly surprised that she too was staring at the forest floor. "She's too… _important_ to us…to lose." His features hardened, "And if we lose her to the Governor…"

Michonne's head flipped towards him and she harshly stated, "That's not going to happen."

And without another word uttered, they both rose at the same time and practically ran north. Back to Andrea. Back to their lives.

.

She was surprised at how careless they were. Branches were cracking, brush was being pushed aside in all directions, and even their labored breathing was heard. Their return wasn't as hectic as the last time they came back from hunting, but she _did_ pick up on the sense of urgency. When she finally saw them, she could easily see their eyes, locked on hers.

"Hey!" Andrea said, just as they neared her and came to a stop.

"Hey." Michonne said back, just a little breathlessly.

"Hey." John humorously mimicked.

Andrea opened her mouth, potentially to ask a question, but was cut off.

"We should get going." Michonne announced, and was that a bare trace of a relieved smile on her face?

"I'll get the bundles." John announced, reaching behind Andrea.

"I can get my-"

"No, I've got it."

Andrea couldn't help but smile at him. She turned to her other side to see Michonne reaching for Andrea's second bundle.

"I'll grab this one." Michonne said.

Andrea, eyes narrowed, slowly stood up and was surprised when neither of them offered her a hand up. They were busy grabbing things she normally carried. She realized they were being…nice, suddenly. Protective, even.

"You know," Andrea said, brushing dust off her jeans, "I'm not a damsel in distress. I can-"

"You've been carrying," Michonne said, hoisting the second bundle over her other shoulder, "both bundles for a while now. I'll take it now."

"And I've got the other one." John proudly said, snatching the second one from Michonne's hands.

"But that means I'm not going to carry-"

"So you deserve a break." John happily asked. "So what?"

And before Andrea could answer, Michonne said, "Let's go!" And, _again_ , was that a small smile, or…?

Shrugging, Andrea followed Michonne as John took the rear. And it didn't take a rocket scientist to see they were walking east. Again.

Several hours passed. It was obvious it was either mid-afternoon or in the early stages of late afternoon. The sun was just now beginning to cast their long, narrow shadows in front of them. The narrow path along State Route 29, long since established by bicycles from before ( _from before_ …), hugged the highway, sometimes right beside it. But they avoided the close proximity as much as possible. They were still on the run. And they knew it. And very soon, they would become very aware of it.

Sometimes, Andrea turned to look behind her. A couple of occasions, John was right behind her, smiling that salesman grin that amused her. Other times, John was a good ten yards behind her, scanning left and right. And Michonne? Well, when she was in front of her, Michonne was _always_ only ten steps ahead of her. Andrea felt cocooned by two very protective…friends. The thought made her smile.

Friends. She was surrounded by friends.

Her smile widened even further. It stayed on her face even when she heard the sound. Lost in her thoughts, she thought of her friends and almost bumped into Michonne, who had come to a stop.

The sound.

Andrea snapped out of her reverie and listened. John did the same.

The sound got louder.

Michonne grabbed Andrea's left arm and John grabbed the other. And before Andrea could say a word, all three were whisking away from the highway into the woods. Once they broke the tree-line, they advanced a little further, hiding behind some scrawny bushes. The sound got louder and sounded like…like…a whirring. No, that wasn't quite right. Andrea cocked her head a little to the right before she looked over at John. His eyes were focused, determined. He kept his sights on the highway. Andrea felt Michonne's hand fall off her arm but John held firm.

And still, the sound got louder. Andrea's intuition was correct – it _was_ a whirring sound. With some rumbles. More whirring. Even _more_ rumbling. And then, recognition rocked her senses.

A car. And not just one. It must've been more. And she was correct.

In the far distance, at least five cars could be seen. John's grip on her arm tightened to the point of being painful. But then, her only concern was the convoy, advancing on their location.

The convoy got closer. So much closer in fact that their faces could be seen!

Pfffffft!

John and Andrea whirled around to see Michonne had decapitated a walker. And that's when their gaze shifted a little to the right to reveal at least a dozen walkers approaching them!

John and Andrea immediately leaped into action! The air was cut by Michonne's katana as it practically flew through the air. Two more walker heads were removed from their bodies. The sounds of walker moans filled the air. A walking corpse grabbed Andrea and she screamed. The other two turned and ran to her. But Andrea held the hungry walker at bay until she grabbed her Bowie knife and stabbed it in the mouth! Blood poured out on her hand as she kicked its lifeless body to the ground.

John slit the throat of one walker just to shut it up before he effectively killed it. Andrea slammed a walker into a tree and before it could get its bearings, she slammed her knife into its rotting skull, letting it slump to the ground.

Michonne twirled in the air, slicing off two walker heads in the process.

John broke the kneecap of a corpse, letting it fall on its side before a knife penetrated its head.

Andrea cut. Michonne carved. John stabbed. Over and over and over…

Finally, all of the dozen or fifteen walkers were wiped out. Panting, all three looked at each other, exhausted but happy that they'd get to see another day again.

"Well!"

John, Michonne, and Andrea all turned around to see that all five vehicles had stopped. At least seven men with RPGs and machine guns, all trained on John, Michonne, and Andrea, were standing at the ready. And in the center, stood a tall, dark-blonde man, hoisting an enormous and very long assault rifle over his shoulder. He was looking at Andrea.

"You must be Andrea!" The man said. He chuckled, looking up and down at her body, licking his lips. "My God, Merle was right. You _are_ fucking hot!"

.


	9. Chapter 9

FINAL CHAPTER – Thanks for reading and reviewing! I'm glad many of you liked my first Walking Dead fanfiction. My thanks once again to _precious-passenger_ for the cover art. And my thanks to my betareader, _ilovesmesomeglee_.

.

* * *

Everybody instantly had their weapons trained on each other. Odors from fresh kill and recently-fired weapons hung in the air like a dead fog. The shift from extreme and horrifying action to extreme and horrifying _silence_ shocked all three of them. And the Governor merely smiled.

His enormous rifle still casually slung over his shoulder, the Governor strolled towards them. All three tensed even further, if that were possible. His men took a few steps towards them too, as Michonne tightened her grip on Her Girl.

The Governor took another couple of steps and came to a stop near John.

"John," the Governor cockily began, "nice to see you again." John's eyes narrowed but said nothing. "Oh!" the Governor added, placing a harsh hand on John's shoulder, "and… _thanks_ ," he glanced at Andrea and right back to him, "for taking care of… _business_."

The girls' alarm bells exploded. But they remained silent. The Governor's men took further steps towards them. One lone bird could be heard chirping in the sunny distance in the East.

The Governor removed his hand and turned towards Michonne. Her fierce eyes met his arrogant ones as he walked towards her. He stopped about five yards away, looking her up and down. The Governor came to some sort of conclusion, even going so far as to nod his head a little.

"She'll do." He said.

But then, he dramatically turned, eying Andrea shamelessly up and down. A cruel smile formed on his face as he took steps towards her. Rivers of shivers coursed through her body and she couldn't hide it, _much_ to the Governor's delight.

"Oh my, my… _my_ …" He said, stopping about ten feet away from her. "God… _damn_ , girl." She glared at him with clear disgust as more birds could be heard chirping from the East. The Governor stared at her breasts, licking his lips.

"You got you some… _great_ fuckin' tits, blondie…"

Michonne and John simultaneously took a threatening stance in front of her. But the Governor barely noticed them. Even more birds could be heard chirping and some were flying overhead.

"God… _damn_ ," the Governor disgustingly said, "I can't wait to get you back to Woodbury and fuck the – "

" _Governor!_ " one of the men shrieked.

Everybody whirled around towards the voice just as an enormous flock of birds flew overhead. Some of the birds even flew low to the ground. And then, every single human being was terrified. What they had feared ever since the world went to hell had finally arrived.

A herd. A head was approaching.

Fast!

Tens of thousands of walkers were marching on State Route 29 right towards them! Every single moaning cannibal could see every single human being, and they were almost climbing over each other to reach their meal.

Everybody scattered. Everybody shot their guns.  
They had to fight.  
Gunfire splattered in the air. Some walkers immediately fell to the ground only to be replaced by many others. Truck and Jeep engines were revved, ensuring their mad escape. Men were yelling, ordering, even crying. More gunfire, more herd advancement, more screams.  
Chaos, chaos, chaos.  
"Get her!" the Governor yelled. But the men were too busy to hear him. "Goddammit! _Ger her_!"  
Furious and frenzied, he ran towards Andrea but was tripped by Michonne. Snarling, he got back up, only to be held down at sword point.  
"No!" John and Andrea screamed. "The herd!"  
Michonne turned around to see the herd getting even closer! But the Governor used the distraction to kick Michonne's sword away.

"My girl!" Michonne yelled, chasing after it.

The Governor got up, and ran towards Andrea!

" _My girl!_ " Michonne screamed, scrambling to find her sword, completely ignoring every thing else. Several walkers heard her cry and ambled towards her!

" _My girl! My girl!_ " Michonne screamed over and over as she searched the brush.

"What the fuck," Andrea screamed, shooting and killing a walker, "are you doing, Michonne?!"

The herd was only ten yards away by then. More gunfire exploded. Rotted flesh and a few walkers fell to the fertile earth as John fired into the herd.

One of the trucks took off at high speed as another one was turning around. Two walkers, who were shot at least five times, were killing one of the Governor's men. His screams joined the memories all of the other times they all heard this. Awful, guttural moans were now louder than the gunfire, as the second truck finally raced away.

Only one truck remained.

The fight was useless. There were simply too many of them.

The herd had arrived.

"I gotcha blondie!", the Governor screamed and aimed his gun towards Andrea! Her eyes widened!

The Governor fired.

Michonne found her sword.

Blood, blood, blood.

.

Dusk. The campfire was the only source of comfort for them. That was often the case, especially night. She found herself reminiscing about campfires a lot lately. When she was in the Girl Scouts, she learned how to tie slipknots, how to flirt with boys, and properly cook smores (or, well, _burn_ them) over a campfire. She fondly smiled at the memory but didn't dwell on it. It was dangerous to remember life before the dead began to walk. Sometimes, she wondered which was more dangerous – this new, harsh world where trust was a hard commodity, or memories. She had many hours in the day to think about it, so why not?

Especially now since she was all alone.

She preferred these kinds of memories to the ones she just made. Looking down, she saw the evidence of how hard life was nowadays. But since when was life ever easy?

With a heavy sigh, she realized that the physical and emotional toll of the day was overwhelming her. She almost considered asking her friend and companion to stomp out the fire. But she didn't. Instead, she chuckled to herself and killed the campfire. Months of experience taught her how to get comfortable on the ground to sleep well. And soon, she was lying down staring at the stars in the nighttime sky.

 _At least the stars didn't die_ , she thought.

.

When she opened her eyes the next morning, she was surprised to see sunshine. Yes, eastern Georgia was famous for it's sunny summers, but she expected clouds. Her depression and loneliness almost begged for it. But it didn't happen. Instead, she realized she was alive. Alive. Alive and well, as the phrase goes. She almost felt invigorated.

Almost.

.

It was time to say goodbye.

There was one can of food left and half a bottle of water. She would very soon need supplies, which was one of the reasons she felt the need to move on. But, of course, there were others. And before she even formed strategies, she had a job to do.

Turning to her left, she took a few steps until she reached the mound. She didn't have any tools but she did her best.

Kneeling, she dropped to her knees, caressing the sword that Michonne called 'Her Girl'. Andrea finally got the answers she was looking for. But she didn't like the price she had to pay.

"Oh, Michonne," Andrea quietly began, "why didn't you tell me?"

Andrea caressed the katana's handle.

"I mean," she began, her voice getting shaky, "The Boys…Your Girl…me…" she let her head drop. She took a deep breath and returned to the sword. "I would've understood. I really would have!"

Andrea wiped some dirt away from the katana's handle. She could've sworn some weeds had already grown on the mound but she wasn't sure. It made her angry. _She_ was angry.

"Oh God!" Andrea exclaimed, "Why did you have to do it?" Her voice got louder and louder. "Why did you _have_ to do it? Why did you step in front of me? It should've been _me_ that was shot! _Not you!_ "

And then the tears came. Again, she let her head drop. Her once-beautiful blonde hair slid down her cheeks and she could feel the morning sunshine on her neck. There may have been a walker moan in the distance but she didn't care. Like she thought before, she had a job to do.

She had to say goodbye.

"I loved you too." Andrea oh so softly said. "I loved you too." She wiped her eyes. "I _love_ you!"

A soft breeze tousled the sword and Andrea secured it more firmly at the top of Michonne's grave.

"Now that I know the whole story," she shakily began, "now that I know The Boys were your boyfriend and his best friend, now that I know they got high instead of protecting your two-year old daughter, I know that I…"

That was it. Andrea collapsed in a heap of total despair. Wails of pain bellowed out of her as she cried and cried and cried. That walker moan was now clear but still very far away. And Andrea could've cared less.

"I'm gonna miss you, girl. I really am."

And with that, she pressed her finger tips to her lips and then on the sword's handle. And without another word, she turned away from the grave and back towards her belongings.

She took a moment for herself. Just a moment. After all, her job wasn't done.

Andrea turned to her right, staring towards a lone tree.

"And you…" Andrea muttered. "And _you_!"

The tree didn't respond. So, she got up and almost angrily marched towards it.

"You! You…you son of a bitch!"

When she got to the tree, she stopped, practically glaring at it. The tree, like much of the world, was dead. Actually, it wasn't much of a tree anymore. Most of the branches were gone and there were no more leaves on it. Not anymore.

"That…goddamn…Governor…"

Andrea looked up and winced. She didn't realize that the top half of the tree was so… _dead_. That word was being used way too often those days.

"Why didn't _you_ tell me?!" Andrea all but screamed. "I _knew_ there was… _something_ between us, but I didn't know it was…" Andrea lowered her voice. "Love."

She took a deep, shaky breath. And then, she strained, making the words come out of her mouth. "I wish you could've told me you were forced to do it." A fresh tear threatened to fall out. "But I know why you couldn't. You didn't know me very well. You didn't…trust me very much." She chuckled. "And why would you? I…well, I _can_ be a bitch…sometimes." Again, she chuckled, but this time much more darkly.

The walker's moan got louder. It was coming closer. Andrea rolled her eyes at the annoyance but didn't let it detract her from her task.

"So," she said to the tree as if it was a normal conversation, "you were ordered to kill Merle or he would've killed you. And you were ordered to bring me back to him but you fell in love with me instead. And you just _had_ to find cover from the herd under this tree when one of the Governor's assholes fired that RPG. _I_ get that. But what I don't get…"

The tears fell. And she let them. She sighed and looked up, along the tree, and all the way up to the skyline.

"What I don't get," Andrea said, "is why this all had to happen?" She took a few steps back so she could get a better look at the tree. "Why did the world go to shit? Why can't we trust and love one another? Why do we have to…?" She took a deep breath, held it, and let it all go. "Go on?"

Except for that stupid, stupid walker's moan, Mother Nature was completely silent. The stillness in the air felt like the whole world was collectively holding its breath, an insult to an unanswered question. And that's when Andrea decided to end that once and for all.

Grabbing John's gun and her belongings, and then, after grabbing Michonne's sword, she took off in the direction of that lone walker moan.

After all, she had a job to do.

.


End file.
